


Twitter-Pated

by MsSpyder



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Loss of Virginity, Relationship(s), Romantic Friendship, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-04-18 23:34:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 47,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4724396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsSpyder/pseuds/MsSpyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>((This is a reposting of the original story after I'd stupidly deleted it. So if you were looking for it, you are in the right spot.))</p><p>What happens when a fan tweets at her hero, and not only does he notice, but he responds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The twitter I.D.s are fake because creepy otherwise o.o
> 
> Also, the people, situations, world are a figment of imagination and fantasy and are in no way meant to be considered real. No offense is meant. Relax and enjoy fiction.

  
Chapter 1: 140 Characters or Less  
  


 

  


_**Richard Armitage** @RArmitage_

_Happy 10th Birthday North &South Recording VO for@YoungMindsUK today, lets celebrate by giving them a small gift._

_< favorited, reply>_

_**Meredith O** @BSpectacled_

_@RArmitage As a fan and someone who works with the mentally ill daily at _#NAMI_ bravo! Now some N &S and a crisp Chardonnay calling me! _

 

It had started with a tweet reply. Meredith honestly had no idea where something so small, yet such a thrill anyhow, would lead. Having settled in for the evening she set out to do precisely what she'd stated in her tweet. The DVD was in and her favorite Chardonnay was frosting up the crystal wine glass invitingly. The wide, soft sofa was a welcome sight after the day she’d had working the teen suicide hotline.

She’d only gotten one call, and that one call was enough to wreck her to the point where she needed someone to take over immediately afterwards. This kid had been serious. She could feel it in the tone of his voice, it was no longer desperate, but devoid of emotion and quite resolute. To think about it, It still made her blood vessels feel as if they were filled with ice water. She understood all too well, what lead someone to the point of the final decision to take their own life. Tugging her sleeves of her shirt over her wrists with a sickening discomfort, she was glad to have John Thornton to keep her company that evening.

After Episode One was finished, she stood to refill her wine glass. She normally kept it to one, but it was Friday night. _Let’s get crazy right?_ Meredith rolled her eyes at how lame her life was when there were others who assumed it was enviable and glamorous. She was a trust fund baby. But her New York City lifestyle was stubbornly not in Manhattan and nothing that could resemble Gossip Girl.

Meredith Osborne was the only child of her parents’ marriage. Her father’s secretary remembered her birthday and holidays and large checks or extravagant gifts were given. He was too busy indulging his gold digger new wife by essentially pretending that his first marriage didn’t exist. Her mother, who had taught her father that a prenuptial agreement was absolutely necessary, spent her time shopping and ‘lunching’ her way around Europe. In spite of the fact that she had made the Dean’s list every semester through bachelor’s degree in Psychology, her mother didn’t understand why she felt she needed to have a career and actually did charity work by physically doing the work rather than throwing extravagant, star-studded benefit parties and subsequently throwing money at them instead.

She sat down again, picked up her phone and glanced at her twitter feed, finding that she had three notifications. Curious, she checked.

_@RArmitage and one other favorited your tweet_

_@RArmitage followed you_

_What? No way!_ Blinking, she reloaded the app on her phone, and checked his twitter page. It clearly said he was following her. _Oh my god! Why?_ He must have mistakenly done that, there could be no other reason he’d follow her. She knew didn’t think he made a habit of following fans on twitter. It was simultaneously thrilling and daunting. She decided to ask rather than finding out months from then he’d ‘unfollowed’ her. Clicking on his twitter page and then _direct messages_ she chewed on her lip for what seemed like an eternity before she began her message.

_Hi, did you mean to do that or was it a mistake?--@BSpectacled_

She hesitated before hitting send. Really she didn’t know if it was actually Richard managing his twitter anyhow. _Hit send...just do it._ And so she did and turned her notifications on so that her phone would let her know if he responded. She doubted he would answer immediately. And if it was a mistake, would he even respond? Feeling like an idiot she turned back to the T.V. and played Episode Two.

Five minutes later she felt her phone vibrate before the telltale whistle noise sounded. She bobbled the phone, nearly dropping it, before taking a breath to try to steady herself. _Holy shit!_ There was a direct message.

_@RArmitage--Was what a mistake? I’m prone to them, so you might wish to narrow it down a bit for me. :-)_

_He’s totally fucking with me..._ She could picture his broad grin vividly and grinned in response. It wasn’t unknown based on his his behavior since he’d gotten a twitter account that he was sweet, and quite snarky at times. The main question was how, out of some fifty-six thousand fans did he notice her? The DVD could wait.

_Specifically the fact that I was notified that you’re following me here. Was that done by mistake?--@BSpectacled_

This time she waited for a response rather than having to pause the movie again. If indeed she was interacting with Richard Armitage, she wanted to be paying attention. And she was rewarded shortly as her direct messages icon lit up with a glowing blue “1.” There was a response from @RArmitage, Richard or his rep perhaps? A thrill shivered through her. It was like being in high school all over again, in that moment when your popular crush actually notices you're alive.

_@RArmitage--Oh that was done deliberately. :-) I hope that’s alright? What’s NAMI?_

As if he was actually in the room with her she giggled and blushed.

_No, I don’t mind. It just seemed to come out of left field, to be honest. NAMI = National Alliance on Mental Health.--@BSpectacled_

That was the last of the exchange. Her dreams included some fairly lurid ones of the man who was presumably tweeting at her the previous night. Though when she woke, she was fairly certain that it was a dream in the first place. Padding down to her kitchen she popped a pod into her Keurig machine and flipped open her laptop, checking her calendar. She had a stupid blind date that night and considered cancelling since she’d prefer a nigh in finish watching North and South. Honestly she would prefer to smack her head on a low beam than to go on this blind date. But if she didn’t go on the stupid date, her mother would just show up on her doorstep, and that was the last thing she wanted.

Upcoming plans included a vacation to London with Abby, her dearest friend, to go see the Premiere of the final Hobbit movie. She had a leather bound copy of Tolkien’s book that had belonged to her grandfather, Otto Meredith, when he was a young boy. She treasured that book and she wanted the cast to autograph it, especially Richard. Would he recognize her from her little twitter profile photo? Speaking of which, she’d been actively avoiding twitter, unsure if she was more nervous that he would respond or that he wouldn’t, assuming it wasn’t all a dream. She was shocked to see he’d sent her another message. _It wasn't a dream..._

_@RArmitage--It might seem random as it was done on impulse. So far I’m not sorry for it. By the way I like your glasses. You wear them well._

She took a long look at her profile photo. The picture came close to looking like she was trying to be a hipster with its carelessly wavy, blonde bob, purple framed glasses while she chewed on her lip as she was prone to do. In truth, a friend had taken it while she was unaware. She supposed someone might see the photo as cute, it was particularly flattering. But enough to grab the attention of Richard Armitage? Hardly.

_I think you’re messing with me a little though I don’t mind. And thank you, some women do shoes, I do glasses. I have many pairs.--@BSpectacled_

It was the last of her exchange with the great Mr. Armitage, or at least someone representing him. Determined to push that aside for awhile she set about her day. The morning included a run, then leading a support group meeting with parents who care for mentally ill children. When she was sitting down to lunch with her best friend Abby Landen, who was also her travelling companion, she allowed herself to moon over the twitter thing.

Abby peered down at the messages, and her eyes widened. "No shit?"

"I know right?"

"It has to be him and not some rep." Abby shoved a fork full of salad into her mouth and nodded. Abby was great, she was vibrant where Meredith felt plain. But the two of them had been friends since freshman year at Stanford. They had a lot in common. Were born into wealthy families and while it afforded them the lives they wanted in many ways, they didn't expect to be treated like American royalty like most of the trust fund babies surrounding them. She had a thing for Orlando Bloom in the same way that Meredith had a thing for Richard Armitage, which was why they were going to the premiere together.

Furrowing her brow, she studied the messages again. "What makes you say that?"

Abby, smoothed her long blonde locks behind her ears and grinned widely while leaning in conspiratorially. "Because he's flirting with you."

That thought hadn't actually occurred to her. _Woah._ "No way! You got that from two twitter messages?"

"Three actually...Come on! 'Might seem random as it was done on impluse. So far I’m not sorry for it. By the way I like your glasses. You wear them well?' That's definitely flirting." Abby gestured with her fork.

"Well he hasn't responded. So I don't know if I'll even hear from him again." That thought was weighing heavily on her. It felt like a loss though it really altered nothing in her life.

"You could tweet something and see if he does something, like favorites it again."

"What do I say in the middle of my Saturday that would be interesting at all?" _What is he going to do when he finds out I'm just a little speck of dull among all the glitter out there?_

Snapping her fingers, Abby brightly suggested, "Tweet a photo! Let's do a selfie of the two of us at lunch? That way it won't seem weird. In fact I will tweet it at you so it doesn’t seem like you’re fishing”

“Which I totally am and he's not stupid.”

“Please, he won’t know that! You're a 23 year old Millenial, we selfie and tweet constantly, it's just a given. Get closer to me. And come on, don’t look morose?” She leaned over and both women smiled into the camera.

_**A Landen** @AbbyCadabby_

_Having lunch in NYC with #BFF @BSpectacled #LolasCafe_

The photo of the two women was posted below. It was flattering and both women looked like they were in mid laugh when the took it. “We’ll see if he even notices.” Meredith sipped at her iced tea feeling far less confident than Abby in the matter. Even if he wasn’t a big star with a huge fanbase of women, there was an age difference to consider. It didn’t bother her. People she was surrounded with did it all the time. But 20 years might bother him. He was not flirting, period.

Hearing nothing from Richard all day, her waning confidence diminished entirely. It was a complete fluke and an unexpected gift as it was. Her mood hadn’t improved by the time she was to meet her date for dinner. It didn’t help that this was set up by her mother. Her idea of a suitable date was an attractive, arrogant, rich, asshole. Some were buttoned up and did actually work for a living, had sticks up their asses and their noses in the air. Others were professional douchebags who bragged about parties, cars and yachts. This one was of the douchebag variety. Neither set appreciated what she did on a daily basis and her mother would die if she explained exactly why she felt so passionately compelled. She was an expert at keeping the scars on her wrists hidden.

Meredith knew she was a source of family shame and that was why, her parents didn’t ruffle her feathers too much, lest she actually try again and make them look bad. It wasn’t the fact that she was on meds to help the depression issue that was a big deal. It was fashionable to be a pill popping hot mess with a shrink, after all. Her father was slightly more sympathetic but he was far too busy with family number two to be bothered to hover. She figured it was better than being smothered. The attention either parent would give her was not the positive, uplifting and supportive kind. The truth was, her time healing had taught her a lot about how to be comfortable with herself being alone. After that, it became fairly easy to find a good support network of people who were as good as family.

After a painful dinner filled with inane conversation about his many achievements, such as his ability to consume copious amounts of top shelf alcohol, and how many women throw themselves at him, Blaine, or Bradford or whatever was his name was actually tried to kiss her at the door. His mouth had been descending on hers like a facehugger from the Alien movies. She sacrificed her cheek instead and thanked him as politely as she could before shutting the door on his face. Ugh! Where does mother find them? _I need to shower after that one..._

It wasn’t too late for some North and South, and another glass of wine. As she settled onto her sofa in more comfortable clothes, she realized that Abby was blowing up her phone with text messages. All of them were telling her to check her twitter.

_M--I’m checking, sheesh._

Taking a breath and a sip of her wine she opened the app. _notifications_ had a bright blue number "4."

_@RArmitage and 2 others favorited your tweet_

 

_**Richard Armitage** @RArmitage_

_@AbbyCadabby @BSpectacled Haven’t eaten at #LolasCafe in ages. #suddenlyhungryforasandwich_

 

She almost spit out her wine. There could actually be a double entendre in that statement, though he would have to be extremely careful about what he did put on twitter for everyone to see, which likely meant that he was actually craving a Lola’s sandwich.

_M--Well he noticed the photo, you’re right!_

_A--And he’s still flirting!_

_M--Oh FFS he's NOT flirting. Maybe he just happens to like sandwiches a lot?_

_A--Or maybe he hopes something else is on the menu :P_

Shaking her head, she put the exchange out of her mind, settling into the second part of the mini-series. She did not understand how Margaret didn’t love John. How could anyone possibly turn such a proposal down? Okay so it was a plot device, but still...Her phone vibrated on the coffee table. She could only stare at it for a moment as the menu screen on her DVD beckoned her to play another episode. And would I be as stupid as Margaret then for not checking my twitter?

Indeed it was a direct message from the man in question.

_@RArmitage--How many pairs of glasses do you own? I fancy the red ones even more than the purple ones. How was lunch?_

She grinned like a fool as she messaged him back.

_I haven’t counted. I might be afraid of the answer. My red ones are a favorite as well. Lunch was much better than dinner, blind date :/--@BSpectacled_

He didn’t keep her waiting for an answer.

_@RArmitage--Hate those. You don’t strike me as the type that needs to be set up to get a date on a Saturday night._

Where was this leading? Curling her legs underneath her, she still couldn’t wrap her brain around the possibility that this twitter conversation was the real deal.

_My mother is on a mission and therefore I have a gift subscription to the wealthy Jackass of the month club.--@BSpectacled_

At this point, she abandoned watching more North and South and brought another glass of wine up to her bedroom and set her phone on her lap. By the time she was settled, her message box indicated another response.

_@RArmitage--damn you I choked on my wine laughing while reading that. You’re dangerous. Wealthy is a requirement of hers?_

She expected this to come up at some point. Honesty was the best policy

_It’s not as bad as it sounds. To be blunt, I’m an heiress. It’s to protect me from fortune hunters and she is a snob.--@BSpectacled_

When it took awhile for him to respond her heart sank. Did that scare him off? Well up front honesty was what she was about. Better to be cut loose sooner than later. Then as she was setting her phone on her nightstand, it vibrated again.

_@RArmitage--Sorry for the delay, my agent called. I apparently forgot to tweet something on my own today. I fixed that._

She checked the feed. Sure enough, he tweeted a scruffy photo of himself.

_**Richard Armitage** @RArmitage_

_Unkempt and relaxed while chatting with a friend. #proofineedastylistbadly_

He was referring to her as his friend, meaning it was actually him on the other end of this twitter conversation? He looked as good ungroomed as he did groomed, in her opinion.

_So I am really talking to Richard Armitage and not some rep?--@BSpectacled_

_@RArmitage--U had doubts? wouldn’t have a rep chat up a woman via twitter for me.Takes the fun out of my bold move last night :-) An heiress who works?_

He’s having fun? Well she certainly was, but...just wow. Under it all he was a normal guy. Still it was best not to assume.

In 140 characters or less segments, she explained how she was planning to get her Master’s Degree in counselling psychology but taking some time off in order to gain some practical experience. He asked her questions and answered some of hers about him. He was somewhat careful at first, as was she. But as he figured out that selling any information on him would not pay out enough to make it worth her while if it came right down to it. She understood needing privacy.

She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep on him until she woke the next morning. _I was talking to Richard Armitage and fell asleep on him?_

_@RArmitage--By the way, what’s your name? Is it actually Meredith?_

_@RArmitage--I’m betting I bored you to sleep :-) Pleasant dreams, my friend, if I may presume to call you that?_

Her heart jumped.

_You’re not boring. 2 glasses of wine &I'm a cheap date :P would be happy to be counted as a friend. Yours, Meredith Osborne--@BSpectacled_

 

  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 


	2. The heart of the Ice Queen

_**Richard Armitage** @RArmitage_

_There are second and third place in the #beardbegone competition...but how much do you want to see them?_

<favorited/reply>

_**Meredith O** @BSpectacled_

_@RArmitage hiding the face of pure evil no doubt as you're clearly enjoying being a tease._

Sitting in front of her fireplace with her computer on her lap, she chuckled to herself. She was hoping she'd be able to bait him into another conversation, and she was in a particularly playful mood. It seemed that they'd both been too busy to be online much at all apart from the random 'hello, how's your day.' The fact that he was still messaging her at all surprised her. She doubted he had a lack of real life friends, which left her all the more confused by it. 

_@RArmitage favorited your tweet_

Not long after that, the indicator that she'd received a direct message popped up on the corner of her screen as the blue "1" appeared moments later. It worked! Her heart did a little dance inside her ribcage. 

_@ RArmitage\--You wound me, Ms. Osborne! There’s nothing remotely pure about my evil I assure you ;)_

She was completely unable to stifle her giggles. Was he flirting back? And did that mean anything? It was impossible to tell in text anyhow. 

_Should I be worried?--@ BSpectacled_

_@ RArmitage\--Perhaps...But I suspect since we're not in the same room, you're relatively safe_. 

_Safe from what?_ At least a dozen X-rated images flickered through her mind. But the mere idea of being in the same room with him was something she'd never in her life dreamed to be possible, until thirty seconds ago. The question which floated through her mind was, _how possible?_ She was no expert on men and dating. Most people in her social circle called her the "Ice Queen." They thought it was something to admire in her as she didn't appear prone to sentiment and was seemingly unflappable. In reality, it wasn't as much that she was unreachable as it was that she didn't see the point in putting up with someone's bullshit more than once and didn't feel inclined to bare her for all to see. She took a photo of the exchange and sent it Abby, with the message, "What do you make of this?" 

_A--Holy shit!_

_M--What? What does this mean? He hasn't come out and said anything actually!_

_A--Read between the lines, Mere! Clearly he's testing the water._

_Was he?_ There was nothing clear about the exchange. While the thought that Richard might be doing that a little, it seemed unlikely that it was for anything beyond a little amusement for the two of them. _This is stupid and indicative of my age._ She doubted sincerely that Richard was wrestling this much with what amounted to an exchange of a few provokative but smart-ass remarks. 

_M--What do I do?_

_A--Um...flirt back? Honestly Mere...GO FOR IT...Richard Armitage is chatting with you on Twitter. What do you have to lose besides the opportunity if he gives up? Time to defrost the Ice Queen, already._

"I'm not a fucking Ice Queen!" she yelled at no one in particular. Meredith groaned and wished she'd brought the entire wine bottle in with her when she'd poured her glass for some liquid courage. Another message popped up as the screen refreshed. 

_@ RArmitage\--has my cheekiness put you off?_

Her eyes widened as she chewed on her lip. _What the hell do I say?_ Honest or clever were the best options. And if she could mix them together...

_Have no fear, Mr. Armitage, I happen to be a huge fan of your cheeks...I mean cheek :P--@ BSpectacled_

Cupping her glass of wine, she gave herself flirt fodder by flipping through photos of him on Pinterest. She was actually better at this face to face than she was in text when properly motivated. She flipped through photos of him on Pinterest while she waited for him to answer. _God you're gorgeous..._

_@ RArmitage\--Aren't you a naughty little girl? What would your mother say if she knew you were flirting with old men online?_

She wondered when age would be brought up. While it was hidden safely within the subtext, it was now the recognized elephant in the room. How best to communicate that she didn't care about that. She was not attracted to men her age and while it was unlikely that this would come to anything more than what it currently was, he had no reason to be self-conscious about that.

_I don't know. If you know any old men, I could try flirting with them to find out. :)--@ BSpectacled_

_@ RArmitage\--Cute, but I gather you’re far too intelligent to not know what I meant by that._

That was the first time he'd been so direct. She found it more appealing than the playful banter. 

_My guess? U wonder if I think about our 20 year age gap as often as you do. The truth is that I think of you more than I think of that.--@ BSpectacled_

Abby had been right, Richard was testing the waters. And it made her 23 year old heart leap to consider it. He’d been the object of her romantic fantasies, essentially escorting her through adolescence into womanhood. Though at first it was all about the characters her played. This was Richard, not a character, but a man. When all was said and done, he was no different than any other man, who had a life and a career. He just happened to be in a career with a lot of exposure to a lot of people. 

She had gotten up and poured herself another glass of wine and started polishing her nails to ease her anxiety by the time he answered her. She’d stopped expecting an answer that evening when the notification popped up on her computer.

_@ RArmitage\--That's part of it, though the other part remains unanswered. _

_My mother doesn’t much pay attention to my online activities.--@ BSpectacled_

_@ RArmitage\--Are you trying to frustrate me by answering around the question?_

Her eyebrows shot up at the speed in which his messages had followed hers. She could picture his frown vividly. Now they were getting somewhere less polite and much more honest.

_I'm sorry, I'm not trying to frustrate you. I'd have a difficult time giving half of a damn what my mother would think of our unusual friendship.--@ BSpectacled _

Again, his answer came right away.

_@ RArmitage\--Our ‘unusual friendship’ might seem somewhat innocuous to you, but my publicist would call it quite reckless. You might guess why._

She didn't have to guess, she absolutely understood the risk he took in even contacting her. And that’s what made this entire thing so incredible. What was he getting from her he couldn’t get from his already established relationships? That was the budding therapist in her coming out. It was no secret to those who knew her that she was very jaded in some respects and she considered hope an entirely outdated concept. However it didn't mean that she didn't appreciate or enjoy people. She wasn't the "Ice Queen" people thought she was. 

_I know I'm fortunate to have a chance to know you even a little. I like you & not just the convienient bits, either. Do you regret this?--@BSpectacled_

_@ RArmitage\--No I don't. I like you too much to regret you. Your sparkling wit, quiet warmth and humble maturity make me surprised that you're only 23._

She felt like he'd just touched her soul as it was the nicest compliment any man had ever paid her.

__________

Her friend Abby's mother called her an 'old soul.' It was quite possible that alone was why she was not attracted to men her own age. She didn't have a lot of places to go with her questions regarding her thrilling online relationship with one of the most beautiful men on the planet. After her conversation with Richard the other day, she even downplayed it to Abby going forward and was careful to delete the messages periodically. She didn't want to pose any kind of risk to him, as she'd begun to value what they had. She had decided that her therapist would be a safe place to go with her concerns going forward. 

Dr. Andrews was a constant comfort to her, and had been since age seventeen. Few people knew the details surrounding her hospitalization back then much less understood why the girl who seemed to have everything wanted so desperately to die. But the quiet man sitting in the chair across from her did. She was surprised that she'd found it so difficult to explain her 'unusual friendship' with Richard Armitage with him. But when it had occured to her that Dr. Andrews was roughly the same age as the object of her affection, it felt weird. 

"So you've not actually had a conversation with Richard beyond the boundaries of Twitter?"

Shaking her head, Meredith chuckled. "I know it's stupid. But no, yet I feel a connection with him. It's as if we're both searching for something we can't find anywhere else."

Dr. Andrews quirked an eyebrow. "Why would you say that it's stupid?"

"Because it's not real, is it?"

"Oh I believe it's a very real relationship, regardless of what either of you do to justify its existence. You talk to him, he talks to you. Admittedly you've confided a bit in each other. 140 characters or less might force you to convey as much meaning as possible in the few words you're allowed. What you might see as complicated, might actually be a simple thing."

She let that sink in for a moment. "Simple how? He's nearly twice my age. It bothers him a little or he wouldn't have pointed it out the other night. I even get it. I mean, what would you be thinking if I was flirting with you? Would you question my judgement in the matter?"

"Not if I actually started first and you surprisingly responded favorably. Though I'm sure he's having some questions regarding his own good judgement because he would see your age as a reason to be very cautious. But it's not overly difficult to see why he did start it."

"It isn't?"

He smiled warmly. "Pardon me for saying so. It might be inappropriate in any other context but this one. But I am a man, no, it's really not. You wanted to know his motivation behind his initial contact, correct? What did he know about you at the moment he was inspired to follow your Twitter feed?"

"Well, I follow him, so I'm a fan. I work in a field that he considers meaningful?"

"And? He even commented on it."

Her eyes widened. "What I look like? He commented on my glasses."

"Which means he finds you attractive." Dr. Andrews steepled his fingers as he leaned forward. "It was non-threatening compliment from him. Considering you had said he's more focused on your age difference than you are. Leaving it open for him to get to know you better. It may never go beyond friendship, but I think he's wondering what it would be like if it did as much as you are."

Blinking, Meredith asked, "You really think so?"

"He did say it was a deliberate thing, didn't he?"

_________

_**Meredith O** @BSpectacled_

_A special thanks to my #HolidayKitchen family @JackJack @FrDave @moBelle for a lovely day._

She posted a link to the news article containing a blurb on the Holiday Kitchen tradition for Thanksgiving and Christmas as well as several photos. One of the entire team that worked, another Fr. Dave sitting with a family eating together. The last had caught Meredith in an apron, waiting tables.

@RArmitage an 5 others liked your post.

@RArmitage retweeted your post

<replied>

_**Richard Armitage** @RArmitage_

_@BSpectacled @FrDave @JackJack @MoBelle Are you still accepting volunteers for Christmas?_

She grinned. The more she talked to Richard the more she genuinely liked him.

_You're such a good person. Are you sure you want to do that? Don't you have family?--@BSpectacled_

_@ RArmitage\--I don't say things I don't mean, if I can manage it I'd like to help. BTW, You make a cute waitress. & I've not seen these glasses :)_

_What is it with you and glasses? LOL!--@ BSpectacled_

She'd run a bubble bath and had pinned her hair up while she waited for his answer and felt a little decadent for stripping her clothes off and climbing in. He'd never be the wiser as it wasn't as if he could see her...though the possibility of that wasn't an entirely unappealing thing to think about. 

@ _RArmitage \--Not just glasses. Uncommonly beautiful, philanthropic, hard-working, reluctant heiresses in glasses._

_Well if I meet any I'll let you know.--@ BSpectacled _

_@ RArmitage\--Are you always so terrible at taking compliments? _

_Yes. But now that I've found my manners, thank you for thinking so, Mr. Armitage :)--@ BSpectacled_

_@ RArmitage\-- You're quite welcome Ms. Osborne._

They spoke for a bit about how her holiday tradition came about. It was tough admitting tht she didn't have family gatherings like other people. She had friends, but it wasn' the same to join them. But this group of people who worked with her, as well as the regulars became her family of sorts. She'd been doing it long enough that some of the people who had started out needing the meals were coming back to volunteer as life had begun to look up for them. 

_Christmas is even more fun, because one of the volunteers plays Santa, an there's a toy drive for the kids.--@ BSpectacled_

_@ RArmitage\--Is there a tree? _

_Of course! Usually someone donates it, and then the volunteers meeting is a decorating party.--@BSpectacled_

_@ RArmitage\--I'd like to contribute the tree to start. I'm serious about being there to help this year._

How could she not fall prey to a man such as Richard? And how on earth was he single?

_@ RArmitage\--So after a long day on your feet, what are you doing right now? _

She blushed. _That's stupid, he can't actually see you!_

_I don't know whether you really want to know >.<\--@BSpectacled_

 _@ RArmitage\--you're not on the toilet are you O.o_

She laughed so hard tears were rolling down her face. That remark totally ruined her 'serious actor' image of him. 

_ROFL! You almost made me drop my phone...No. If you guess correctly, I'll send you a selfie exactly a where I am.--@ BSpectacled_

Well there was no taking back that sassy offer after she had hit send. But every interaction with him made her feel more comfortable and willing to do things she'd never considered doing before. 

_@ RArmitage\--Well that certainly makes things interesting... Hmm...how many guesses do I get?_

_One. But you can ask for three hints. I'm at home, that's a freebie.--@ BSpectacled_

Her pulse quickened. What on earth had gotten into her? _Richard Armitage...that's what!_

_@ RArmitage\--Is it a place you would invite others to join you regularly._

_LOL you'd better hope it's not the toilet if it were. No. I don't generally invite people here specifically--@ BSpectacled_

_@ RArmitage\--Are you in a fairly vulnerable position/place?  
_

She wasn't sure if she wanted him to guess correctly or incorrectly.

_Yes. I'd say so.--@ BSpectacled _

_@ RArmitage\--If you dropped your phone, would you ruin it? _

_Yes, the odds are that it would be ruined if I dropped it.--@ BSpectacled _

_@ RArmitage\--Are you in the bath? If you are you don't have to send me a photo if you don't wish to._

A gentleman? Or shocked by the offer?

_Yes I'm in a bath, with bubbles. Would you rather I not?--@ BSpectacled_

There was a pause, which she took the time to check herself in the mirror and sank below the bubbles a bit so that the only her shoulders and a hint of the swell of her breasts were visible. She snapped several photos, and deleted all but the one she liked. She was peering over her glasses and her lips had a ghost of a smile on them. She sighed, getting nervous in the 'silence.' Then nervousness turned to panic. 

I'm sorry, I don't want you to think badly of me, or that I’m prone to this sort of behavior...I don’t know what I was thinking.--@BSpectacled

I’m an idiot and he’s going to think I’m a tramp and never speak to me after this night...Another moment passed before an answer popped up. She was incredibly nervous and almost didn’t want to read it.

_@ RArmitage\--Have you considered switching to decaf? I don’t think badly of you. I like you too much for that._

Taking a steadying breath, she hit send on the photo and waited. _Oh god...Oh god..._

_@ RArmitage\--Ms. Osborne...I’m utterly shocked!_

She cringed and her heart sank. And then another message appeared immediately. 

_@ RArmitage\--I mean who on earth wears glasses in the bathtub?_

If here were there she’d have strangled him to death. 

_You are the meanest man on the planet! I’m blind as a bat without them, and didn’t want to put contacts in to be tweeting you.--@ BSpectacled_

_@ RArmitage\--That was mean but admit it, also brilliant. Here’s where I am right now. Hope this makes up for being a bastard._

Attached was a selfie of his own. He was in his bed, propped up on his side by an elbow. He was disheveled and obvioulsy not wearing a shirt though it was only basically a head and shoulders shot. But the fact that he took that photo for her benefit and that she could see him in his bed made her squeal with excitement. The phone slipped from her hands into the water. “Fuck!”

Jumping up she toweled quickly, unplugged the drain and shrugged on her bathrobe, and deposited the dripping, blank phone onto a towel before dashing to her office to answer him. 

_@ RArmitage\--Please tell me you’re not actually upset with me. :/_

_No! I shouldn’t even be admitting this but I screamed like a girl when I got your picture and dropped my phone in the tub. >.<\--@BSpectacled_

Picking up her computer she took it to her bedroom and spread out across the duvet, proceeding to order a new phone to be delivered the following day while she waited for his answer.

 _@ RArmitage\--While I did not drown my phone in the process...I found your photo to be incredibly sexy. I have a confession for you._

_Oh? Do I want to know this? ;)--@ BSpectacled_

_@ RArmitage\--Very funny. There are some things I’m not going to admit to you, regardless of my guilt in the matter. :P_

_Well okay then, sounds like we're on the same page there :P...What's this confession you have for me?--@ BSpectacled_

_@ RArmitage\--I’ve been working up the courage to ask you out. And perhaps when I get back from the BotFA Premiere tour, maybe you’d consider it?_

Of course she said yes. She was tempted a few times when they chatted to tell him she’d be in London for the premiere, but still thought it would be much more fun to surprise him. But until then, she had to get through another stupid date her mother arranged. If she hadn't already agreed, she wouldn't consider accepting another until she'd been out with Richard. What she had once considered a really nice fantasy, had become a distinct possibility of coming true. 

__________ 

_**Jerry Rowland** @JGRowlandIII_

_What a rare privilidge to have @BSpectacled on my arm for the holiday #RowlandFoundation gala last evening. nyti.ms/society_

_Ugh! Really? Barf!_ She wanted to pound her head on her desk. Her mother would take that and run with it of course. And of course it was being re-tweeted by the who's-whos. Her insides curled at some of the replies regarding him having melted the "Ice Queen" at last.

The photo was exactly what it was supposed to look like. Meredith had worn a very simple, graphite gray, straight cut, strapless gown with a sweetheart neckline, her look was polished, sophisticated in a manner that denoted her wealth without being flashy. No glasses that eveing, as her mother would have have killed her. She had been smiling up at Jerry at the moment the photo had been taken and at that angle, it looked far more genuine than she'd felt at the time. Her demeanor was exactly what was expected of her, gracious. Laughing at jokes that weren't funny and making small talk about things she could care less about. It was expected of her and she delivered for them. In a nutshell, she'd been a perfect trophy. And it made her feel dirty. 

Jerry was good looking and a charming guy. She felt that perhaps he was a product of his environment and overall, he was one of the better choices her mother had made for her. But Jerry and his friends were among the set of people who saw money and status as the only thing that actually mattered. And if she was with him, there would be no way she'd be allowed to continue with the work she was doing. That alone made it a relationship she'd never cultivate. Mr. Right will take me as I am and not see me as a benchmark of a successful life. 

When she'd felt her phone jump, she was a bit surprised that it happened to be a message from Richard. 

_@ RArmitage\--I think when you told me you had another date set up by your mum, it was a bit of an understatement. I think your date owns the building I live in._

_You saw that did you? Yes, Jerry’s in real estate and now I know you live somewhere really nice. But I spared you a whine you'd heard before.--@ BSpectacled_

The phone rang at that moment causing her to roll her eyes as she answered, but she fixed a smile on her face, "Hello, Victoria." She hated being called mother, which had always felt like a bit of an insult to her. Her mother claimed that it was because she was much more progressive parent, when in reality, she really didn't want to be thought of as older in any sense of the word. 

"You and Jerry must have had a good time." 

"What makes you say that?" Meredith thought that sounded better than, 'Not really but whatever helps you sleep at night for even considering the pompous ass a match for me in the first place.' 

"Well it's all over the media, for one. Second, Elaine Rowland has not stopped gushing about what a good impression you made on her son. And how could you not, you looked so stylish and lovely. Janice Harding said you were practically glowing." 

_Oh yes, the who's who would be eating it up..._ Still, he was considered one of the most eligible bachelors, for those people to which such things mattered. Perhaps letting her mother float on that fantasy wasn't such a bad thing as long as she wasn't lying anyhow. "Jerry's...charming, was a gentleman and a very...attentive date." 

She could practically see her mother beaming with pride. "Well then, Elaine will be thrilled! I'm so glad you enjoyed yourself." 

By the time her mother signed off, it didn't feel so bad to hear that she wasn't such a social embarassment for a change. Checking her twitter feed she saw that she has another message, which brightened her day even more. 

_@ RArmitage\--It looked like things went well. You two make an attractive couple._

The trouble with text was that intent was sometimes unclear. She couldn't decide if he was simply making a friendly observation, or if he was fishing for her feelings on the matter, or actually a bit upset with her. 

_It certainly looked that way, didn't it? Perhaps I deserve an award for best performance? Mom is happy and I’m just happy it’s over. @ BSpectacled _

_@ RArmitage\--You don’t have to downplay it for my benefit and I'm not some besotted foolish boy you can toy with._

Oh No! He WAS upset...

_Please don't be like this. The difference was the visiblity of the event, not my view of the circumstances. I promise I'm not playing games with you.@ BSpectacled_

When he didn't answer her she made another attempt at getting his attention, though a bit pouty and childish. 

_You hate me, don't you?--@ BSpectacled_

His answer came right away, and she could practically see him sigh with impatience were he to say it to her face.

_@ RArmitage\--No I don't hate you. But I don't have time to do this with you just now as I have a flight to catch. _

At times like this, Meredith wished she really was the "Ice Queen" people thought she was. Dr. Andrews was right. It was real, and she'd been fully invested in it though she barely knew Richard. The thought that this might be the end of it was postively heartbreaking and for the first time in her life, she cried over a man. 

  



	3. Surprise?

  


Abby's energy was a bit maddening when they'd arrived at the London townhouse. The house was once her grandfather's and it had caused quite a lot of drama that he'd left it to her. She didn't know why her mother had cared since it had always been her least favorite property.

Even though she'd been sorely tempted, she didn't contact Richard since he'd shut her down the last time. She thought the best thing she could do was respect his space. It was a painful two days, but if the possibility of salvaging whatever their fledgeling relationship was hinged on her ability to demonstrate her maturity by not behaving like an impatient child, she'd wait as long as she needed to.

Abby hissed, "Mere, stop moping! You've been looking forward to this trip for weeks! Let's do some retail therapy. Butch here can carry our bags for us." She patted the very large man on the arm sassily. Abby flirted with everything male and meant no harm but sometimes it embarassed Meredith a bit because it sometimes came off as dismissive.

Staring at her security guard apologetically she blandly said, "His name is Brandon. And he's my security guard, not your pack mule. Besides, our bags can be sent back here."

Brandon's eyes warmed a fraction as they met hers. He was always professional when there were others around, whenthey were alone he was a bit more relaxed. While Meredith had grown up with a fully staffed household, she preferred to not have much more than her cleaning lady, groceries delivered to her, and Brandon when it came to the day to day. Brandon was more visible when she travelled. And here in London, she had a house keeper, Leslie, who did actually live there for free while attending school. She kept it clean and only was expected to have full time duty while Meredith was in residence, which wasn't very often. Meredith liked that the house always had someone living in it. 

She'd been in one hell of a mood yesterday, and her mother happened to hit her at the wrong time with her latest bitch about how embarassing it was to have a daughter who was such at failure at being rich. It embarassed her mother that she didn't keep more of a staff. It embarassed Meredith that she had any 'staff' at all. "Honestly Meredith, at least hire an assistant." 

"An assistant for what? I don't do anything that creates such a complex schedule. I have an accountant, a house keeper, a lawyer, and a security man."

"You have a responsibility to your family's name." 

"What is my responsiblity exactly? My parents are such wonderful role models, after all...Unless it's my birthright to wear four-thousand dollar jeans while I shop and lunch so I can talk about more shopping and more lunch? Or is it to run off and marry the secretary I'd been fucking, completely abandoning my wife and daughter?"

She could have cut her own tongue out if it had meant taking such a nasty thing back. In the end, she'd apologized. She did have a good example of what it was to be a person with money. Grandpa Otto had done it the right way. While she never took for granted that she was extremely fortunate, and that all of it could be gone tomorrow. She had the tools toNow, this didn't mean she never took advantage of her wealth and position. The fact that Otto Meredith was one of the original silent partners in Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. and had left the entire share of his holdings with her made attending something like a high profile, blockbuster movie premiere possible.

She was even assured of a place along the ropes, past the solid barriers, among the other executives, which would separate her from the crush of the crowd. She would be allowed more time with the stars, and her autographs would be successfully acquired. She had all of that arranged long before Richard had made contact with her. 

The fact that this had been the longest span of time since they'd first 'spoken' that he hadn't just shot off a quick message was disheartening. The bright spark in the short bout of misery was that Richard had made good on his promise of a Christmas tree. It arrived the morning after he'd left for London. But it would figure that the very first time she would meet the man of her dreams face to face, they were already at odds. 

Ironic that she'd hoped to surprise him when she was currently not so certain this would be a particularly welcome one. Would he still be upset? Would he refuse to speak to her? Would she cry? _Oh god, please don't let me cry again._ At the very least, she should try to muster the courage to thank him for the tree and get his autograph.

"Stop frowning, you'll scare away the movie stars." Abby scolded her. "He's obviously been busy with the press tour and all. And perhaps, dear lady, he actually wants to have a real, honest to goodness conversation over what was clearly a misunderstanding. How many times have you and I had a falling out?"

The breeze caught her hood and knocked it back. "I hope you're right. Because this completely blows." 

Abby gently replaced Meredith's hood and adjusted it. "Just because your self-absorbed, asshole family abandoned you, doesn't mean that the rest of the world can resist absolutely loving you. You're SUCH a good person, Mere. Anyone who thinks otherwise obviously doesn't really know you." 

"Thanks, Abby. I love you too." She remained calm until the limousines started pulling up. "Do I look alright?"

She'd bought a bright red, cape-style, silk trench coat with a hood. It was lined with a light-weight material that kept her warm, while the silk kept the wind out. Normally for dressy occasions she wore contact lenses, but as he'd said the glasses with the dark red frames were his favorite, she opted to wear them. She was careful to not to be ridiculously dressy, as she would only be cold an uncomfortable. She wore a winter, white, fuzzy turtle-neck sweater over a plaid, wool, skirt. Her tights were lined, and she wore, faux fur trimmed, knee-high boots. The heaters in the area helped to keep her nose from turning red in the cold. _God, I dressed with him in mind...Could I be more of an idiot?_

"You look spectacular, Mere."

Brandon leaned over her shoulder and murmured in her ear. "I agree with your irritating friend."

And that was enough to put a smile on her face that belied the anxiety churning in her stomach. 

The cast and crew started appearing. People were in awe of her book and reverently handled it as they autographed it. She shook hands with Sir. Ian McKellen, Jed Brophy, Martin Freeman, and Evengeline Lily, Andy Serkis and felt blessed to have a few extra moments with each of them. Brandon took photos for her and she was aware of a few extra shots being taken by the media, since she was standing with other Warner Bros. executives, people had put two and two together. No doubt they'd think she was holding court. No matter what happened with Richard, she would treasure the rest of it. 

Then Orlando Bloom came by. Abby, for the first time in her life, was struck dumb. _Oh god I am never going to let her live this down._ She did manage to rescue the situation by grabbing the camera from Brandon and taking a photo herself, making small talk, breaking the ice so that Abby was finally able to speak to the object of her affection.

When Lee Pace met her he smiled charmingly, "Nice glasses!"

Blushing Meredith said, "Thanks. They're quickly becoming my favorite pair." 

As they posed together for a photograph, Meredith tried not to notice Richard had been slowly making his way toward them. "You're American, long trip to see a movie don't you think?"

Meredith felt the tightness in her chest ease when she laughed, "Well I had nothing better to do and got the matinee price."

"It's important to be financially responsible, after all." Lee had looked over the book, spotting Tolkien's signature in the front cover, "I can't believe you're letting people sign this...What's your name, gorgeous?"

Man this one could charm the sock off of nurse ratchet. "Meredith. Meredith Osborne."

Lee's head came up with a jerk. "Wait a minute...red glasses...Meredith O...you're BSpectacled, aren't you?"

She could hear Abby squeak beside her. She nodded a bit self consciously. “Yes.” This friend of Richard's knowing that much about her was a turn of events which took her by surprise. She could see the wheels turning in the actor's head. _Was this a good thing or a bad thing?_

“Interesting...he doesn’t know you’re here does he?” There was a knowing look in Lee’s eyes that was completely unsettling to her already jangled nerves.

“No.” Her eyes cut to Richard as he was turned away. “I…” _this was happening._ A few stabs of panic jolted her system as she securely tugged her sweater sleeves down. She vaguely felt Abby's hand on her shoulder for support. It managed to be just enough to keep her upright for the moment.

Lee tapped his friend’s shoulder, “Hey Rich, get over here. Someone’s here to see you.”

She watched as an easy, ironic smile appeared on his lean, handsome face. "Oh you've noticed that have you? There's a lot of that going around right now." 

But it was obvious he was curious as to what would motivate Lee would seek to draw his attention at that moment in particular. The entire world slowed down as Richard Armitage paused and turned his gaze to where Lee was standing and a pair of the most unbelievably blue eyes met hers. _Oh god..._ It felt like she'd had the wind knocked out of her to see him standing there, flesh and blood. Photographs didn't do this man justice compared to seeing him in person. It took a moment for him to register who she was. But when he did, his expressive face let her know the exact moment the lightbulb went on. His hand went to his jaw, just as she'd seen him do in interviews.

But warmth and something else...curiosity? Fascination maybe...flickered in his eyes as he approached her. "Meredith..." Surprise resonated in the way he'd said her name. 

"He doesn't look very upset to see you, Mere." Abby chirped in a whisper that would have been better executed by a five-year-old.

Meredith winced because the humor in both Lee and Richard's eyes indicated that they'd heard her friend loud and clear. Laugh or cry moments being what they were she rolled her eyes, allowing both men to hear her say, "God dammit Abby! You're absolutely fired as my wing man."

Catching that, Lee actually laughed, winking at Abby. But Meredith only had eyes for Richard, who was currently standing close enough to her that she could smell his aftershave. _Oh my dear god..._

"I sincerely hope you're who I think you are or this might be very awkward, Ms. Osborne." His voice did something incredibly sexy to the sound of her name, sending shivers through her. "I thought you were going to the New York premiere."

It's easier to talk if you breathe, Meredith! She had to take a moment before he was able to speak. But she managed a shy smile for him. "Yes, I...I'm pretty sure I am who you think I am...and...I never actually said New York...hoping to surprise you...so...Surprise?" she made a little gesture with her hands that made his eyes crinkle at the corners as he chuckled. 

"And such a lovely one I might add. So...why would I be upset to see you?"

“Oh well...The other night you were pretty upset with me." Try as she might, she was unable to completely hide the hurt she felt over that, choosing to let her gaze drop for a moment to recover before returning to his face. 

His smile falterd as his expressive eyes reflected the regret he felt. "Right...I'm so sorry for that, I meant to get back to you, but I've had literally no time to myself." Her stomach did a little bounce. _Abby was right..._ "Forgive me?"

"Hey man, they want us to move on." Lee said.

She remembered her book and said, "My book, I brought it for you to autograph it." She held it out.

His brows furrowed for a moment. "I don't just want to scribble my name in it. Let me take it with me?" 

"Well...I'm not done getting signatures..."

He was thoughtful for a moment before saying. "I'll tell you what, I'll get everyone to sign it for you. Not everyone is here and there are some others who will be in Paris and L.A. while I'm there, so I can get more than you could. I promise I'll return it next time I see you." His smile was sweet when he added, "A little assurance that you'll allow me to see you again." 

_How could I say no to that?_ "Okay. Please be careful with it? It's the only thing I own that's important to me."

"I promise you I will." As he took the book, their fingers brushed. Before she could wonder if he'd noticed that fleeting contact between them as he paused, she noticed the slightest smile as he curled his fingers in for a moment.

Before they moved away, Lee made a point to take a group selfie that was shortly posted to twitter. 

_**Lee Pace** @LGPace_

_Beautiful ladies @BSpectacled @AbbyCadabby w/ @RArmitage & me #OneLastTime_

Lee deliberately positioned himself so that Richard had to stand with Meredith. His arm was around her waist and she was positive that he could feel her body betray her because she was trembling so badly. In fact it was evident in the look that he exchanged with Lee. 

_________

Richard made good on his promise and as the press tour and the premiere tour ebbed and flowed from place to place, he was driven to get as many signatures as he could for her. When Peter Jackson himself handled the book he looked surprised, "This is an original printing signed by J.R.R. Tolkien himself. Where did you say you got this?" 

"A...friend, her name is Meredith Osborne. It was her grandfather's. I'm a little shocked that she wants autographs for the movie in it, to be quite honest."

Peter's eyes narrowed, "No...that makes complete sense acutally." Peter paused. "How did you meet Otto B. Meredith's heir?" Meeting Richard's confused expression he said, "You have no idea who she is, do you? Otto was one of the original investors in Warner Bros. when the shares first went public. She inhereted his holdings and his fortune there when he died a few years back. She's a silent partner, but a significant one, nonetheless."

"Are you serious?" There was a bit of awe in his voice, "How could I know? She waits tables at charity holiday dinners that she herself provides much of the funding for anonymously and answers phones for a suicide outreach hotline. Her single shopping indulgence is eyeglasses of all things. All the money in the world and her most treasured possession is this book..." _And she trusted me with it..._

"I'd had the pleasure of meeting Otto Meredith on more than one occasion and was fortunate enough to call him a friend. That man could drink me under the table...Very down to earth and humble. He was the first person who believed in my pursuit of the Lord of the Rings movies. What you just described does't surprise me one bit. I met her once, she had to have been around ten years old. She worshipped Otto who had basically raised her. Her parents were more than happy to let the old man parent her. Self abosorbed, is what they are. She didn't take his passing well. Her attempted suicide was all over the papers." 

Richard's heart sank, unable to imagine those hazel eyes and that sweet face without life. It explained the old soul he felt she had when he was finally able to meet her for that small bit of time. 

_______________________

Exactly four days after she'd met Richard, she recieved a message via Twitter with his phone number. 

_M--And now you have mine. I never properly thanked you for the tree, by the way. How's my book?_

_R--Hello! You're welcome, I'm back on Wednesday, is that too late for the tree trimming party? Your book is running out of room for autographs._

The tree trimming party was set for the Friday after Richard returned. Fr. Dave was testing light strings as Ramona, better known as Mo, was setting out the boxes of orniments. "So how did you manage to get the attention of the actor that played Thorin for this?"

Jack laughed, "You're seriously asking that Mo? I mean he sent us a whopper of a tree, with the size of that trunk, clearly he's sending her a message." 

"You know, there's a Catholic priest in the room! And I doubt he's that crass." Meredith hissed turning several shades of red. "Behave yourselves or you'll scare Richard away when he gets here." 

Fr. Dave actually laughed. 

When Richard arrived, introductions were made and it didn't take long to be a little bit more at ease in his presence. He was so friendly and eager to help. In a million years, she never would have guessed that the first time she would spend any amount of time in the presence of Richard Armitage, they would both be seated on a cafeteria table top, side by side, stringing popcorn on thread with needles. She couldn't stifle a little smile at the surreal picture it painted in her mind. _My fantasies hadn't included this scene._

"What?" He asked, having watched her facial expressions change as she was thinking.

 _Oh god! What do I tell him?_ "Just this mundane task, I never would have pictured this."

He watched her blush and decided to go with her simple explanation. "I do many mundane tasks. I don't mind them actually." He plucked another handful of popcorn and proceeded to thread those. "It's especially fun when I can do them in the company of a beautiful woman."

There was something about hearing those words delivered in his voice that made it sound like more than a compliment. A smile ghosted over her lips when she answered, "Well when I find one for you, I'll let you know."

He simply shook his head and sighed.

At the end of the night, the room was decorated festively and everyone was pleased with the work done. As Fr. Dave was locking up, Richard helped her with her coat. "You look like Red Riding Hood in this coat."

"Does that make you the big bad wolf?"

She turned towards him and he lifted her hair from under the collar with a gentle sweep of his hand along the skin of her neck as he did it. "So you are like this face to face. In London I wasn't sure I'd met the same person." His fingers lingered in her hair for a moment.

"Well, I was a little...star-struck. It was easier to start off being glib when I had doubted it was really you over Twitter."

He pulled her hood up, peering down at her. "Fair enough." He let his hand drop away. "What now?"

It was decided that they would stop at a little wine bar in her neightborhood, which wasn't terribly far from where he was living. Everything he did was perfectly relaxed and charming. He occasionally gave her longer looks than would be normal. Clearly she was not used to being out with a man that wasn't part of the school of sharks she swam among. This was another long, inquisitive look that made her stomach jump. "What?"

"I'm surprised you live in this neighborhood."

She could sense that while that was a true statement, it hadn't been what was on his mind just then. But she went with it. "Why?" She tugged the sleeve her sweater securely down to her hands before bringing her hands up above the table. 

"Before I forget..." He pulled her book out of his inner coat pocket and set it on the table between them. "Peter told me who you were. I don't know why it didn't occur to me where along the green carpet you were standing. Don't hate me but I confess that I 'Googled' you." He looked incredibly sheepish over that admission. 

She grinned over her glass at him. "I've 'Googled' you. I'd say we're even."

"Yes well, you told me you were an heiress. And I understand that's a level of wealth that few experience. But you're part of a category of people unto itself. I just had no idea because...You're self reliant, down to earth....and..." Catching her bemuse smirk he added, "I'm probably insulting the hell out of you just now, aren't I?" 

Her laughter was musical. "There's a reason I avoid most of 'my kind.' Abby is one of very few exceptions. Fr. Dave, Mo, Jack...I have other friends like that. They don't treat me differently. I'm sure you understand that feeling of unease that you'd prefer people not have when you're trying to have a normal conversation with them." Realizing what she'd just said she giggled a bit, "Oh the irony..." She rolled her eyes, "By the way, I promise to get over my moon-eyed stare eventually." 

His grin was easy as they shared a mutual laugh. "Oh I like you, Ms. Osborne. I find your 'moon-eyed stare' as you call it, very flattering. Besides..." He paused to take a sip, watching her over the top of his glass, "I find myself suffering from a similar affliction when it comes to you." 

While what he'd told her was completely thrilling, she could practically see the word 'but' in giant bold letters hanging between them. Her heart, that had been soaring one moment, slid sickeningly to her stomach. When it was clear he was hesitating and not just a small bit of self-loathing in his eyes, her lack of patience for bullshit got the better of her as she sat back in her seat and grimmly supplied, "But..." 

  



	4. Good Deeds

  


There were moments in one's life that were of the type that would be burned into memory for all eternity. They were those stumbling block points in which the fork in the road went off in two seemingly opposing directions. Neither of which was clearly the right one when they were at hand. But here it was. And while most people her age failed to recognize such things, much less deal with them, Meredith was not among that group. She realized that the tone of everything going forward in their unusual friendship would be set by her ability to show Richard just that. 

Richard had hesitated, and it was obvious by the way his eyes widened ever-so-slightly, that she’d been more than just a little bit successful. He sat back in his seat and rubbed at his jawline as she’d seen him do countless times before in interviews while he was searching for the right thing to say in response.

His ever sexy voice emerged as he slanted her a look, “What makes you think there’s a ‘but.’”

Her hazel eyes pinned him as the corner of her mouth turned up, “What? Are you running for office? You have some type of qualifier for the last thing you said practically stamped on your forehead.”

“Honestly, more of a question for you. Have you really thought about how old I am compared to you?”

She shrugged, perhaps it was a rather juvenile gesture, but she found it difficult to give a damn just then. “Your age is common knowledge. I did the math back about the time I was finished with training bras.” 

There was a ghost of a smile on his lips and his eyes crinkled at the corners in response to that honest little bit of information. "Have you considered what people would assume about us?”

“Obviously you have.”

His look was smug when his eyebrows rose. “Now who’s running for office?”

“Well, I’m just wondering if this is the big ‘sorry kid but we can’t be friends’ speech. Am I getting the brush off?” She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat and tugged on her sleeves again.

His voice was sincere when he slowly said, “No...I wouldn’t have involved myself in your life beyond London if I were intending to walk away. Believe it or not, I don’t regret...whatever this is. I’m just... confused."

She picked up her wine glass and watched him for a moment while she took a drink. "Funny, you have always struck me as a man who was remarkably self-aware Then again, you haven't actually told me what is confusing you. Our respective ages is unchangeable. It would be the safest 'out' for you since it is a faultless obsticle, though you aren't that disingenuous. The fact that you did something a bit out of character such as start flirting with a fan on Twitter...I can't help you explain that one as I can barely understand how you managed to notice me in particular."

"You'll make a fantastic therapist. Your uncanny knack for observation is a bit daunting. And no, I'm not looking for a convenient escape route. I admit I like being with you." His face hinted at a smile. "I can explain how I noticed you. Some of that was purely happenstance. You answered the right question, at the right time, in the right way. I was curious about you...I took a chance that it wouldn't blow up in my face."

Grinning she shook her head, "There's still time enough for that."

His smile broadened further. "I suppose you're right." Leaning forward, he set his hand gently on top of hers. The contact hit her senses like a bolt of lightening. Much to her relief, her arms were well covered, as she knew the instant she had goosebumps. The hand was warm and the skin was smooth, but not overly so. These were not idle hands. The fingers were long, and graceful. His hand was a bit bony, but he was not someone she'd call 'slight' in build. 

Her lashes swept down as she glanced at his hand resting on top of hers, before glancing up at him through her lashes. "Are you concerned about the potential impact on your career...being associated with me."

"Not really, no. My reservations are of a personal nature. Guilt mainly. I feel my attraction to you is...inappropriate." It was his turn to cast his eyes down at their hands.

"That's honest, at least. I can respect that. I mean aside from mutual attraction and a few common interests, we know so little about each other. I'm young but not blind to that. I also believe that any relationship of any kind needs to build organically and cannot be forced to work. At the very least, I would feel fortunate to have you as my friend. Starting there wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it?"

His hand position changed so that he laced his fingers through hers. It was as if he was testing the idea of a physical connection between them. It made her stomach do a little flip. As his eyes found hers again there was that same look in them she'd seen at the premiere. What is that? "Not a bad thing at all. That would be a very good thing, in fact."

  
  
  
  


Fr. Dave was pulling up to the front of Mere's house when Richard and Lee arrived. When he opened up the van, they saw that the back was full of toys and gifts. 

"Looks like you've made Santa's nice list, Father." Lee chuckled causing the priest to turn his head inquisitively. 

When his eyes rested on Richard they warmed. "Oh hello again Richard. Did Meredith hook you into elf duty tonight too?"

Nodding, Richard said, "Yes."

"I'm sure those big beautiful eyes did most of the convincing." Lee laughed.

Richard glared at Lee, "Oh and I brought a cheeky friend as well. Fr. Dave, this is Lee."

Fr. Dave offered his hand and a warm smile. "Hello, Lee. I will appreciate your help."

The men ran arm loads into the house while Mo directed them to the dining room. The long, oak table was set up as a gift wrapping station. Upon seeing Lee Pace standing in Meredith's house, Jack's mouth fell open. "How many famous people do you know?" 

Meredith turned her head to see Richard and his flirtatious friend carrying gifts and flashed them a grin. "Ah you brought a real elf with you and everything."

Lee chuckled saying, "could you picture Thraunduil disdainfully wrapping gifts?" 

The thought actually forced a giggle to escape her drawing Richard's attention. She found herself held by that unidentifiable look in his eyes until Lee cleared his throat. Now his knowing little smirk indicated they'd been caught. She could feel her cheeks warming in response. Rather than trying to explain herself or attempting to cover it up, she turned towards the kitchen in order to check on the hearty beef and vegetable soup she'd made for the occasion.

The idea was that people could eat whenever they were inclined to do so. Introductions were given and the many hands in the room made for light work. They were more than half way through the wrapping process when Meredith and Richard were leaning against the granite island cupping bowls of soup.

Richard made a noise of appreciation when he'd taken his first taste, "This is gorgeous. I thought you said you weren't much of a cook."

Meredith blushed as she looked down at her food. "I'm glad you think otherwise. I know how to do a few things pretty well. My grandpa felt it was important for me to be capable of taking care of myself. My mother is appalled that I make my own food to begin with and more that I don't eat 'cuisine' all of the time."

"The eating of cuisine is as necessary to her as is your finding a wealthy jackass to marry I take it?" His eyes lit up with amusement.

Meredith set her bowl down, approaching the thick loaf of bread. "Exactly!" Picking up the knife she frowned, "is it a chromosomal thing when it comes to knowing the difference between a bread knife and a meat knife?"

"Oh well in his defense Fr. Dave is a Catholic priest. He's used breaking bread, not cutting it." His humor was as sexy as he was.

"I suppose you have a valid point. Want some?" She started to slice it.

"Oh yes please."

That moment she looked up at him for a moment, not watching what she was doing when the knife slipped. "Oh shit!" She gasped, afraid to look down at the damage to her hand.

"I was hoping you'd meant a slice of bread, not your hand." His eyes widened in response to his realization at what had just happened. "Oh! Are you alright?" Then, upon looking down at the blood pooling on the counter he shook his head, "Oh no you're not..." He immediately took her hand and lead her to the faucet, shoving it under a cold stream.

He'd noticed that her face was as white as a sheet as her eyes met his. "I can't look. How bad is it?" Her body started to tremble as she felt her extremities going cold. It was getting more difficult to focus on his face and she thought she was going to be sick at any moment. "I think if we just put some pressure on it and I sit down, I'll be fine."

"I think you're being overly optimistic, love." 

He knew the moment that she'd checked out of the scene when she sagged against his side as she had been generally self-conscious about any overly familiar behavior with him throughout the evening. She as so used to taking care of those around her, that she seemed a bit stubborn about allowing someone else to take care of her. The next several hours involved Lee, Mo and Jack finishing up with the wrapping while Fr. Dave drove Richard and Meredith to the emergency room. One look at the blood soaked towel and they rushed Meredith back leaving the priest and Richard to wait.

Meredith came awake very disoriented and groggy. _What the hell happened?_ Her eyes wandered the tiny room and finally rested on Richard, who was staring out the window, into the night sky. He was every bit as impressive in person as he was on stage and screen. She was in the hospital, what was he doing there? Then the memories of the evening came flooding back to her. She'd cut herself with a knife while slicing bread. She remembered flashes of things surrounding the group who had been gathered at her house rushing her out the door. At some point, Richard had swept her up into his arms and carried her to the van and then from the van into the hospital. 

As if her thoughts of him were audible, he turned. The same concern he'd had in his eyes as he'd held her hand under the faucet was still there though it slowly melted into a warm smile. "Well hello."

She attempted to speak but was still groggy from the anesthesia. It resulted in a frustration that he must have noticed as he turned and laid a gentle hand on her forehead. "Just nod if you remember how you got here."

Flashes of a memory having Richard carrying her through the glass doors at the ER.

_He was surly panicky with the staff as they'd pulled her away from him telling him, "Don't worry sir, your wife is in good hands."_

_"Oh...we're not married. She..." His hesitation wouldn't have been obvious to them but she remembered as his eyes rested on her face he had said, "she's my girlfriend."_

_She hadn't noticed at the time but now could see the triumphant gleam in Fr. Dave's eyes as he had patted Richard on his arm._

_The nurse rolling her away from him had asked her, "Do we have permission to inform your boyfriend of your condition and care?"_

_She had been stunned but she had nodded._

She was once again stunned as she nodded for him. A blush heated her face allowing her gaze to drop to the blankets across her chest. She felt him smooth her hair away from her forehead which sent a warm feeling through her to her stomach. Did he have any clue as to what his touch did to her?

The doctor poked his head inside, "Ah you're awake sooner than I expected." It was difficult to focus on the doctor, she knew she was a bit cross eyed.

Ever observant, Richard reached over and retrieved them, leaning close to help her get them on. "Thank you." She croaked and then cringed at the sound of her disused voice.

The doctor smiled, "It's nice that you have someone to take care of you, as you're going to need it. You must have an impressive set of kitchen knives, Meredith. You sliced clean through a flexor tendon and into the radial artery. That was why you were bleeding so much and that the surgery was necessary right away. That hand needs to be immobile for a week and you'll have limited use of it the following week. Physical therapy progress will determine recovery following that. We couldn't get ahold of your Parents but as your boyfriend has assured me that he'll take good care of you, we don't need to send you to a rehabilitation care center."

Did the doctor just say what she thought he said? _He was going to take care of her? For at least a week? Richard Armitage...it was like a scene from a really cheesy romance novel only she would have contracted malaria and he'd be mopping her brow faithfully. Except malaria was somehow romantic while nearly severing a major body part with a kitchen knife made her feel like an inept dumbass._ Her eyes cut to Richard's sheepish face and she was about to protest when he hastily replied, "No, that is not at all necessary. I’ll keep an eye on her and see to it she’s allowed to heal properly."

"Well we will work on discharging her into your care then."

After the doctor left her eyes were huge as she hissed. "You can't be serious about volunteering to take care of my idiot self for that long."

"Why not?" To his credit, he legitimately looked confused.

"Because you're... _you_. And aren't you busy being...all famous and...handsome and...well... _you?_ " _Fantastic explanation there, Mere..._

His eyes smiled. "At the moment, it turns out that I'm not." He shook his head with a bit of embarrassment. "Busy anyhow, I'm not working if that's what you mean...I know it was presumptuous to assume I could stay with you for two weeks, but since it turns out I'm your boyfriend I didn't think you'd mind." A grin formed to match the playfulness of his demeanor.

“Okay so that wasn’t some sort of weird dream I’d had.”

“I wasn’t trying to be heavy-handed. I let them believe that so they’d let me in while you were still unconscious and since they couldn’t get ahold of your parents.” He frowned.

"I didn’t think you were, and thank you. Though that’s how rumors get started." She teased. 

He shook his head, “I think if mouths will run, the fact that I dashed into a New York Hospital carrying you will be quite enough already.” Rolling his eyes and rubbing his jaw he added, “I’m counting my blessings that they assumed you were my wife and not my daughter.” Cocking his head to the side he said, “So...you think I’m handsome, do you?”

Squeezing her eyes shut she groaned. The humor in his voice added to his heart pounding appeal. "You doubted that? Look, I appreciate your intentions, but I can see about hiring a nurse for my recovery. I'm sure you have things you'd rather do."

He shifted uncomfortably and his face lost its smile, "So you'd really rather have a stranger help you than me?"

The drugs must have been wearing off since she noticed that she'd hurt his feelings. "Oh please don't be like that. That’s not at all what I meant. It's just such a generous thing you're offering to do. And it is the type of thing that puts a strain on long-lived relationships never mind what manner of damage it could do to a new friendship. I just don’t want you to feel obligated, that’s all. You’re such a busy man and the last month has been absolutely nuts for you. Is this really how you want to spend your time off?"

"Well, perhaps I want the uninterrupted time to get to know you." He mentioned shyly. "So maybe there’s a self-serving component to the offer. I’m certain there will be ample opportunity to relax in there. So can we stop arguing about it?

After she reluctantly agreed to let him have his way, things went smoothly until it was time for her to get dressed. Again, as they assumed Richard was her boyfriend they also assumed that he would be helping her with that task. He produced a small bag she recognized as hers. "I had my assistant bring you something comfortable to wear from your house. I hope it's something you don't mind wearing as Fr. Dave selected it."

She immediately felt her cheeks burning. "I'm sure it's fine. You're really going to help me change my clothes...okay then...that escalated quickly, didn't it?"

"Well you can barely stand up and it would be cruel to let you flounder around with only one hand available. I promise to try not to enjoy myself. But as I am a man and I happen to find you very attractive, there are no guarantees of my success in that." She couldn't stop the nervous giggle from escaping. He came around the bed and helped her to a sitting position, allowing her room to swing her legs over the edge of the bed.

 _Is it possible to die of embarrassment? Okay Okay we're both adults._ She reasoned as he produced a soft cotton shirt with long sleeves and a pair of soft fleece leggings. She wondered how the entire thing was going to work but waited to see what he wanted her to do. She turned for him as he reached for the ties of the hospital gown. His fingers brushed the skin on her back, which was lovely torture. She heard him chuckle a bit. "What?"

"I have to admit...this isn't what I pictured for the first time I'd be removing your clothes."

His voice held a combination of wry amusement and dark promises in its deep tones. _Oh god he thought about that?_ That was a thrilling thing to hear. "Oh..."

As he eased the garment from her shoulder she helped him by shrugging it off. "Surely that doesn't surprise you?"

"Well...considering the fact that you gave me the rare opportunity to know you personally...this whole thing came as an unexpected life development...Not to mention your reluctance in general. Yeah it's a little surprising. Not that I'm complaining." In spite of the allusion of his comment, he was being a perfect gentleman and at the very least not mentioning it if he was enjoying his task. 

"You're a temptation that's very difficult to resist, which implies that I'm putting up some sort of fight that I'm really not." His chuckle came as a low rumble in his chest before he said, "Okay lift your arms."

"Oh sorry, no one has dressed me since I was five I think. I feel so stupid for having cut my hand while slicing bread." He eased her shirt over her arms and head, careful to not catch it on her face.

"That was an honest accident. Human beings are quite prone to them I hear." He stood in front of her, with her gown covering her lap still, preserving her modesty a little. He lifted the leggings and frowned. "I admit I haven't dressed anyone since my nephew was about 5 years old. How do you know which side is the front on these things?"

She tugged on the waistband and indicated the tag-less label. "That goes in back, also, there is a bit more room in the back of them for my sitter."

His eyes glittered with amusement. "Your sitter, you mean your bum?" He bent to his task of easing her feet into the legs.

"Well I sit on it don't I?"

"Indeed you do. Americans have funny little sayings that make me smile. You must have the smallest feet I've ever seen on an adult."

"Really..."

"No...I didn't mean it badly. You have pretty little feet. And no I don't have some sort of strange kink that way."

"Well that's a comfort."

"See, all dressed. That wasn't so bad was it?" His smile was warm as she shook her head for him. "Do you think you can stand up?"

"I've done it once or twice, I think so." She slid off the bed as he helped her pull up the leggings, allowing the gown to fall away. The room spun, however. "Woah."

His hands were immediately on her waist as her good hand rested on his chest. "You okay?"

Looking up into his face at this close proximity caused her breath to catch. "I guess that might depend on what we're talking about." She could feel his heartbeat against her fingers. The air was humming with tension between them as their eyes met, neither one of them inclined to look away. 

His blue eyes took on a look of admiration and awe. "I think I could look at you forever and never be fully accustomed to your loveliness." As if a magnetic current drew them towards each other he lowered his head. Her heart beat rapidly in anticipation of a moment which had only been possible in her dreams a few short weeks ago.

The sound of the curtain being pulled back startled them both into pulling their heads back as the nurse said, "Woops! didn't mean to interrupt!" 


	5. Little White Lie

  


_What a crazy dream!_ She sat up in bed, feeling foggy, and disoriented with the most hideous cotton mouth in her life. Then slowly her hand was on fire. It felt as if she had fileted her hand like a fish... _Oh wait, I kind of did._.. Looking down at the plaster cast for a moment, the possibility that the events of the previous night were not actually a dream suddenly dawned on her. _Wait…that would mean—_

A quick knock on the door frame was followed by tall, lean, gorgeous, blue-eyed Richard Armitage appearing in her doorway carrying a cup of hot coffee like some sort of wild dream come true. “Good morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?” 

_Holy shit! How did this happen? I know, I actually died in surgery and this is heaven…_ Blinking a few times to assure herself that she was indeed awake she finally said, “Um…I don’t remember actually getting to bed, so I must have.” But she did remember. She remembered him dressing her at the hospital and also remembered him helping her into the flimsy nightgown she was currently wearing as images flickered through her still-foggy mind. _  
_

He smiled a bit as he observed a temptingly sleep-rumpled, slightly cross-eyed and confused Meredith turn red as her eyes widened slightly. She was, in a word, adorable. “There’s one spoon of sugar in there…yes I remember you telling me that." 

Accepting the cup she breathed in the inviting aroma carried into the air by the steam. "Thank you." When the side of her bed sank under his weight, she added softly, "You were serious about staying..." She didn't know how to feel about that.

He shifted so that he could face her. "Why wouldn't I be?" The very thought that she would consider hiring a nurse in the place of offered help spoke volumes about how emotionally neglected she was. Though more than just a little bit insulting, the fact that she didn't fully trust his sincerity further supported that notion, 

"It...it's just a lot to ask of you." She set her coffee aside to cool a bit and picked up her glasses so that she could see Richard without crossing her eyes. .

He took advantage of her hand being free and covered it with his, curling his fingers around it. Praying for patience, with a deliberate tone he explained. "You _didn't_ _ask_ , actually, _I offered_. I assure you that I'm here because I chose to be." Or are you trying to convince me that if the roles were reversed that you wouldn't do the same for me...if I needed it?"

His smile was so sweet that she couldn't help but return it. Shaking her head, she bit the corner of her lip. “No, I would.”

“Then can we consider the discussion settled?” She was relaxed enough that when his fingers started to explore the bones and contours of her hand she'd forgotten completely about her scar until he’d found it. The flash of panic caused her entire body to go rigid as cold, nasty shame spread through her. Defensively she dropped her gaze as just the thought of looking him in the eye made her stomach hurt. 

When she attempted to pull away, his grip tightened, though not painfully so. “Please don’t...It’s okay, I already knew.” Surprised, her eyes cut to his. There was concern...sadness, but not judgement or revulsion there.

"Pete mentioned it when I had him sign your book. He told me about your grandfather and you. I didn’t know precisely how you'd done it, just that you had. But you don't need to hide it from me." His fingers traced the nasty little scar. It was difficult and frightening to consider that she had nearly succeeded in ending her life. Noting the size and the angle of the silvery white line on the inside of he wrist he added, "This wasn't a cry for help. You were serious."

She didn't know what she had expected his reaction to be when he found out, as she knew he eventually would. It was a bit of a relief to have it out there. It felt as if something had clicked as whatever it was that was in the air between them had grown stronger. The moment between them, spent lost in each other's eyes, felt more intimate to her than any she'd ever shared with anyone else in her life.

He'd felt it too as he reached for her, laying his other hand along the side of her face. There was no way that this could end without some serious wounds. There was little doubt left that she was letting him past some very high walls she'd built out of self preservation.

"Yes. It's how I know when a caller is serious. There's something in their voice.” She could see numerous questions swirling in his eyes, and she felt unusually compelled to answer them. Drawing a shaky breath, she dared herself to continue in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “It’s not like the movies, you know? It wasn’t dramatic or reactionary. I was aware, and it was done deliberately.” Deciding that if he truly wanted to know more, he would ask.

He didn’t leave her waiting long while he indulged his impulse to continue touching her tracing her delicate jawline with his thumb before allowing his hand to follow the contour of her slender neck to her shoulder. He was careful not to displace the flimsy strap of her nightgown. The temptation was maddening, but the last thing he wanted her to think was that he was simply going through the motions of caring about her for the purpose of getting in her pants. “How long ago?”

“I was seventeen.” Her answer was a calculated attempt, however weak, to not draw attention to their respective age difference by not saying that it was six years ago.

The fact that he’d pressed his lips together and withdrew the hand on her shoulder to run his fingers through his hair meant that he was doing the math anyhow. He shifted uncomfortably as he stood up, scanning the room until he found her matching dressing gown. “What changed things?” 

She wanted to ask him the same question, though she had a feeling she already knew what his answer to her entirely different use of that question was. It was a subject that would likely be beaten to death before a resolution would be found one way or another as she stood, and allowed him to help her cover up. “That’s a complex answer actually. Medication as well as therapy. I don’t miss a dose or an appointment. I value my life too much these days for that.”

His eyes lit up at her answer. “That’s good to hear. You alluded to more?”

“I was so angry when I woke up in the hospital that I wouldn't talk to anyone. But one day Fr. Dave came by my room. He was just out of seminary at that time. The hospital chaplain job was his first priest gig. To say I was unpleasant would be a gross understatement. And yet I couldn't make him go away. Still can't." she smiled warmly at the memory. "He was the first person beyond my grandfather who really showed me that there are people willing to stay with you, even when you're at your worst. And now there's you."

Humor danced in his eyes as the corner of his mouth twitched in a barely stifled smile. “Which am I more like, a grandfather or a priest?”

She hissed and gave him a playful shove, “Neither, because I've never wanted to smack either of them upside their heads as strongly as I do you, ya big dummy.”

“So violent with your one remaining good hand, Ms. Osborne.” He said in mocking admonition before the devil appeared in his eyes, “Though remind me to never let you slice bread for me.”

“Oh la la...is that what the kids are calling it these days?” She shot him a wink.

Feeling that they were on safer territory once again, he indulged himself. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” His naughty grin was suggestive.

“I’m not answering that question before I finish my coffee on the grounds that I’m not in possession of my full faculties.” She lifted her cup in a mock toast and said, “Get it? Grounds? Coffee?” before eyeing him over the rim for his reaction as she took a drink.

Indulging himself in a laugh, he threw an arm around her shoulders companionably. “Come on. I’d better feed you before you start harboring delusions of a possible future in comedy.”

The morning had been full of discoveries of all of the things she could not do well if at all with one hand. Opening child proof medication bottles, buttering toast, of course getting dressed. The moment she'd realized the shortcomings of trying to take a bath with one hand, the blood had drained from her face. She was certain she would burst into flames her blush had felt so hot. Of course he'd been good, and had assured her he would try not to enjoy himself too much, with the caveat that he was still male and not blind, therefore not entirely immune.

He had tried to keep a conversation going in order to distract himself from the maddening effect she was having on him with her bashful sweetness. She had placed her trust in him to behave himself. That still didn’t stop him from teasing her as he remarked that it was possible that she'd seen as much of him without clothes as he'd seen of her by that point. Her lack of denial, slight giggle and resulting blush confirmed it for him. He tried not to think about how young she might have been when he'd filmed some of his earlier work, at least not in the same five minutes he was thinking about what it would happen if the soaking wet towel that was wrapped around her happened to slip. 

When she was dry and dressed from the waist down, his deep voice from behind her broke into her thoughts as he grumbled, "I don't know how you can manage these bloody things without being able to see what you're doing." The irony of a man diligently working to put a bra on a woman wasn't lost on either of them. But Richard was frowning darkly at the clasps and doing just that. 

She shrugged, earning a frustrated growl from him. "Oh sorry! You know, I don't recall any guy who wasn't an expert at removing one."

He chuckled as he was simultaneously successful at securing the set of hooks properly. "Well...that's different, isn't it? Believe it or not, Ms. O, breasts are a powerful motivator for skill development among adolescent men." His fingers brushed her skin as he made sure the straps were in the correct place for her.

Her reaction to his touch was so sudden and intense that she was unable to hide the shiver that launched itself through her. _God dammit_...And by the way his hands went completely still, there was little hope that he hadn't noticed. She took a breath that was still shaky and on the equally unsteady exhale she murmured, "S-sorry."

He was almost successful in resisting the temptation to touch her again, until he'd felt her shiver. "For what?"

That seductive, velvety timber in his voice only heightened the aching need that he'd awakened. "I just...I don't know." 

Closing the distance between them his hands molded their way down her slender arms until he folded her within his embrace. He pressed the side of his face to hers as he said, "Then I'm not sorry either." 

What had been a perfect moment was interrupted shortly by the jarring sound of her ringing phone making them both jump. She thought she heard him curse under his breath as he scrubbed his face with his hands. Forgetting she was standing there in a bra and jeggings and should feel a little self conscious she reached for her phone, frowning. "What on earth?" As she answered it. "Dad?" A look that was a mixture of frustration and guilt appeared on Richard's face and vanished as quickly as it came.

"Hello Pumpkin!" She cringed because her father was one of those loud Phone talkers, so that Richard could hear him plain as day. _That's not embarrassing or anything._

 _"Pumpkin?"_ Richard mouthed with the devil in his eyes.

Narrowing her eyes at him she mouthed, _"Bite me,"_ earning a chuckle from him. "Is everything okay?"

"I should be asking you that, Mere. I got a call from the hospital last night that must not have gotten through somehow." _Or your wife 'forgot' to tell you more likely..._ "Something about an accident with a knife. Mere...you weren't...What I mean is...You're okay...taking your meds, right?"

Her dad had never been completely comfortable with asking her about her depression. She tried not to sound impatient when she answered that. "Yes Dad, I'm taking my meds. I really slipped with the kitchen knife like a complete dumb-ass. I have witnesses."

She heard him sigh in relief. "Is your mother with you then?"

She actually let out an inelegant snort, "You mean...Victoria? Please, Dad."

She had to smile when his voice went flat with sarcasm. "Sorry, I almost forgot who we're talking about...The doctor said he released you into the care of your boyfriend, right? I didn't even know you were seeing someone much less seriously."

Richard crossed his arms in front of him, grinning at the obvious discomfort she was feeling. "Well...I...it just sort of...happened out of nowhere really." She cringed trying not to actually lie to him. _  
_

"Well coincidentally, I'm flying into New York on business tomorrow morning. If you are up for it, I'd love to treat you both to dinner tomorrow. Maybe I can get to know your new guy."

He sounded so happy for her she felt guilty. "Uh...hang on, let me see if he's available." She muted the phone and glared at Richard who was tearing up, trying not to laugh out loud. "This is your fault!" she hissed.

He tried to make amends by helping her into her sweater but ruined it shortly with, "What? Are you so ashamed of me you can't introduce me to your dad?" 

"Very funny...That would be fine except that your little white lie has become this...thing."

"Just tell him we'll be there. Anything else will make me look like twat and yourself like an idiot for dating me." 

She supposed he was right. _Smug bastard._ Un-muting her phone she said, "Dad? We'll be happy to join you."

"Perfect, we'll do Vincento's at seven o'clock? Table for four." _Lovely, Alessa will be there._

When it was set, she hung up and stared at Richard in utter disbelief while he flashed her an audacious grin. "What?" ****

The following afternoon, Richard had gone home to get suitable clothes to wear to dinner and to run a couple of errands. He'd done so much for her that she was happy that he was getting time away, especially since she'd conned him into helping her decorate her home for Christmas. But he hadn't complained once and had gone so far as to claim that he had enjoyed it. 

Abby called and when Meredith filled her in on the recent shift in events her friend was speechless. And like best friends do, she buzzed straight over to help her get ready after saying, "You don't want him to see you get ready for your date do you?"

"It's not a date, Abs."

"Sure it's not, and 'Mummie Dearest's" boobs are real." Abby emphasized her remark by 'fluffing up' her girls, sending them both into giggles with both Abby's nickname for Meredith's mother and the visual. "Richard's obviously crazy about you Mere. Why else would he be here?"

She supposed Abby had a point. But he was holding back in a way that wasn't mere caution. "I don't know if that will be enough. When he meets my dad he'd going to think I have 'daddy issues' I'm looking to resolve through him." 

Even though Meredith was essentially ready, she didn't feel ready. In her black, long sleeve, back zip, shift dress and little gray swede booties, she looked as she always did. She was well dressed, well groomed, Abby had put her hair up into an unstructured French twist. Her earrings were simple silver columns hanging, drawing attention to her long neck. She'd even decided to put in her contact lenses. But she wasn't ready. One would have thought she'd have been ecstatic to have Richard Armitage pretend to be her boyfriend. _But I want him to be mine, not pretend to be mine..._

Richard knocked on the door frame, "Are you decent?"

She sent all thoughts of self doubt away and turned away from her mirror. "You've helped me bathe and dress for the past 48 hours...isn't that a bit like closing the barn door after the cows get out?" She giggled a bit as he came around the corner looking perfect, like something out of GQ, in a dark gray suit. Richard was one of those men that was so beautiful that it was almost painful to look at him. _Oh God_...

"Well I thought it would still be a bit presumptuous, considering you had someone else getting you..." His voice trailed off as she turned away from the mirror, taking a moment to swallow before he finished, "getting you ready." His eyes swept over her.

"Is everything alright?"

He smiled sheepishly, "You look beautiful. Are you sure you want to be seen in public with me?" 

"Oh...well, Thank you." She giggled, "I was wondering the same thing about you wanting to be being seen with me...actually." 

His eyes searched her face for a moment, and he suddenly turned a bit shy. “I…” He reached into his jacket pocket for a pretty jeweler’s box. “I got you something. I'd meant to give it to you for Christmas...but I wanted you to have it for tonight.”

Her heart tripped over itself as she was completely shocked. “Richard…" She whispered. "I don't expect things like this." 

"That's good because it is a surprise. Please just have a look before I lose my nerve here. This will either go over really well or not at all." It occurred to her that he seemed genuinely insecure. That was something she’d never expected from someone like Richard. She wasn't sure what to make of that. 

“Oh? Now I’m curious.” She opened the box to find a necklace with a key pendent. At first she thought it was a Tiffany Key which might have disappointed her though she never would have let him know that. But no, she looked more closely as she held it up, and her eyes went wide. "The key to Erebor!" 

When he spotted the tears in her eyes he panicked a bit. "Oh...I hadn't anticipated that it would go over that badly."

"No...exactly the right thing.” Taking a steadying breath she swallowed back the swell of emotions that had come out of nowhere. “I’m not sad, just...deeply moved. I can't remember having received a nicer gift. It's just that you...get me in a way that people who have known me all of my life don't.” Her eyes met his, noticing how his now crinkled a bit at the corners with his self-conscious little smile. “I love it. I'd definitely like to wear it tonight if you’ll help me put it on."

He picked the delicate chain out of the box and moved behind her, draping the necklace over her neck. It rested in exactly the right spot. "There,” His gaze traveled to the pendant as she turned back. As he reached for it to adjust it in order to lay it straight he asked, "You really like it then?" The most gorgeous smile appeared on his face and it triggered her stomach butterflies to flutter wildly.

Rising to her toes, she kissed his freshly shaven cheek with a sweetness that only scratched the surface of the intensity of her affection for him at that moment. "It's perfect. Thank you." There was so much more she was burning to say to him... _You're perfect and I might be a little in love with you...please tell me you won't actually be pretending tonight..._ Instead of saying any of that she patted his tie. They could hear the front door being opened and closed downstairs. “That’s Brandon with the car ready, we should probably go.”

As she started to turn, he caught her right arm, returning her to her position in front of him. “Just...one more thing…” 

  



	6. Mind the Gap

  


She stopped and turned her curious gaze back to him. _Wow._ She could barely breathe as a thrill skittered through her. The very scene that she'd built in her mind as a foolish young girl was on the verge of coming true as Meredith felt the hands belonging to Richard Armitage slide themselves around her waist and up her back. As he gently drew her against his lean, athletic body his gaze dropped to her mouth with clear intent. Time froze when he tilted his head to the side as he lowered his mouth to hers. There was something about the way it felt to have his nose slide along hers that made the experience personal and so much sweeter. She closed her eyes so that the very second their lips made contact she was aware of nothing else but the way it felt to be so thoroughly kissed by him. Before long, she realized that she would be forever changed by what had taken place between them. It was as if he was making love to her with his mouth while his lips skillfully explored hers. One thing was certain, Richard, in the length of a single kiss had effectively ruined her for any other man. 

Her response managed to tip his entire world on its side. Meredith had, by most accounts, a pragmatic view of dating, relationships and romance which belied her age. But the way she willingly melted in his arms at the very first touch of his lips held that unmistakable element of youthful, untainted innocence. As he reluctantly brought the kiss to an end, he drew her further into his embrace. He breathed her in...her scent, her softness, her heat...she was intoxicating. He needed time to digest his own reaction. He felt as if he had just poured his heart out to her. As he released her, she had such a thunderstruck expression on her face that he could do no less than smile warmly at her. “I want you to know that when I kiss you, that it's not an act and it's for no one's benefit but our own." 

He placed his hand on the small of her back as he guided her through the restaurant as they followed the hostess to a more private dining area in the popular restaurant. As much as he understood that she was familiar with a level of wealth he'd only just recently been exposed to personally due to his career success, he watched as this very young woman navigated it with an understated grace and poise that belied her age. 

The man approached his daughter with a look and smile filled with obvious affection for her. "Meredith..." 

"Hello Daddy." she answered, allowing herself to be drawn into his hug. As they released their embrace, Meredith nodded toward another woman who couldn't have been 30 yet and in a tight voice but with a polite smile said, "Hello Alessa."

"Meredith, honey, you're looking gaunt, are you eating right?" The women hugged politely.

Meredith didn't rise to the occasion but turned back to her father. "How was your meeting, Daddy?"

"Well you understand shareholders' meetings. Long and dull, similar to my flight. So do I have to guess his name?" He added conspiratorially, with a tone and cadence that was similar to that of his daughter.

She shook her head, "No, it's Richard..." 

It was at that moment that the woman that was indeed identified as Meredith's stepmother linked her arm around her husband, "Holy shit Boone, do you have any idea who this is? Your baby girl's boyfriend is Richard Armitage."

The man with neatly styled blonde hair and green eyes didn't even flinch when he turned towards Richard. Giving him a long, surveying look he finally smiled broadly, "Hello, Richard, Boone Osborne. Meredith's father." Richard thanked his lucky stars he was a trained actor because at that moment he was struck by the fact that he was roughly the same age as the man Meredith had just called "Daddy." 

Dinner had been an eye-opening experience. Richard had absolutely no idea why Boone was with Alessa. She was only a handful of years older than Meredith, and was not her husband's intellectual equal. Boone didn't strike him as shallow and was quite interested in Richard's career and was fairly easy to talk to.

Alessa, who was on her third glass of wine, leaned forward and asked, "So how did you and Meredith meet?"

They had decided not to bring up Twitter. His arm was resting behind her as he caught her eye and smiled, "At the Red Carpet in London for Battle of the Five Armies. I turned around and there she was. There hasn't been a day that has gone by that we haven't at least talked A little."

Boone didn't miss the way Richard's eyes changed when he looked at Meredith. "Surprising actually since she's so damn independent otherwise."He added thoughtfully, "She's always been wise beyond get years. Otto did a fine job raising her. God knows her mother and I can't take credit for it."

It was a fairly large revelation for Meredith to hear her father acknowledge that.

"Oh Boone don't beat yourself up too much. It's women like Mere and me with our little daddy complexes that benefit men like you and Richard here who like a young piece of ass to tap." Alessa giggled, thoroughly amusing herself.

Meredith wanted the floor to swallow her up at that moment as both Richard and her father shifted uncomfortably. Her father was the first to speak, "Okay then Alessa, you're cut off, dear. And I'd prefer not to think of my daughter as you so eloquently put it, 'a piece of ass.' And I'm fairly certain that Richard and I don'y appreciate being likened to dirty old men."

Richard cleared his throat and said, "Indeed."

But it was too late to retract what had been said. While dinner went on in an amiable fashion after that, Meredith sensed the tension coming from Richard, even if her father and his drunk wife were oblivious. As a result, the car ride home from the restaurant felt as if she were with an entirely different person than the one with her on the way to dinner. He was clearly brooding as his eyebrows were furrowed and his profile looked as if it had been carved in stone.

After what had felt like an eternity of uncomfortable silence, he finally asked, "How old was he when you were born?"

"Richard, don't do this to yourself."

"How old was he?" He snapped out.

 _Great...one step forward, two steps back_. Watching Richard's mouth press itself into a flat line, she winced, "22."

A groan escaped him as he turned his gaze away from those big, beautiful trusting eyes of hers to stare at the jam of traffic they were presently caught within. “Christ Meredith…He's only two years older than I am, which makes me old enough to be your father." _How’s that for a taste of bitter reality you dirty old bastard…_

"I don't have a daddy complex. I had a father figure in my life even if my own wasn't around."

"Be that as it may, it doesn't at all fill in the age gap between us."

“My dad is a very young dad by today's standards to have a child my age, and you're still younger. Abby’s dad is 50.” She shrugged.

His eyebrows rose as his jaw flexed a bit, "I sincerely hope that the last little gem wasn't supposed to make me feel better about this."

Though he wasn't yelling, he sounded angry. It was the tone of voice she'd imagined him using during the misunderstanding about her date with Jerry. "Feel better about what exactly? I'm still not entirely sure what this is. I'm not the one who told the hospital I was your girlfriend. And as far as I know, nothing has happened that you should feel particularly ashamed of…unless it's me you're ashamed of."

Glancing at her once again he gave her the harsh truth. "I think of myself as an old man who has no business thinking about you, much less feeling about you the way that I do. And don't think your charming stepmother will be the last person to say aloud what everyone will think if they see us together."

He hadn't exactly denied that he was ashamed of her, and at the very least was ashamed of himself for whatever feelings he may have for her. It felt like someone had punched a hole in her heart. If there was ever a time that she wished she were someone else or something other than what she was, it was at that moment.

After a heavily silent ride home, Richard helped her remove her coat. “I’m not John Thornton, Meredith. I'm not some hero. It wouldn’t be right to take what you’re offering me.”

Frowning up at him she said, “What are you talking about?”

“You’re innocent.” When she was about to open her mouth to protest he shook his head, “It’s obvious, Meredith. When you sent me that provocative bath photo I’d thought...”

She gasped as she rounded on him. “What? That I did that on a regular basis? You're not the only one who did things completely out of character those first few nights on Twitter, Richard. But, at least I know why you didn't walk away ages ago. When you thought I was a slut I might have had a chance?” His brows shot up, knowing he'd run roughshod into a minefield. “Sorry to disappoint you that I didn’t want my first time to involve seat belt burns and the words ‘hey baby let’s get shitfaced and screw.' I've done...things...just not everything. Just enough to be sure that high school and college were not breeding grounds for respectful men who at the very least knew what they were doing. I have self respect and I wanted my first time to be special and not something I did for the sake of having done it. One thing that my self-inflicted brush with death taught me was to actually pay attention to my life's experiences while I live them. I wanted to know who I was without a man in my life first. I wanted to be a real adult first." She spat out derisively, "Not that you’d give me credit for actually being one. Well I hope you and whatever whore that finally wins your heart are very happy together.” 

He felt that white hot flash of temper at her particularly nasty barb. But the hurt in her eyes was damning and cooled him quickly enough so that he didn't lash out. He hadn't been particularly nice to her since the restaurant, and the fit of temper did seem to come out of nowhere to him as well. Well not nowhere...His moodiness wouldn't have been totally hidden from her forever he supposed. But the issue at hand was the damage he'd caused someone he cared deeply about. ”Meredith…” When she actually ran from the room he squeezed his eyes shut and drew a long breath before what amounted to him chasing her up her staircase. His stride was to his advantage only to have her bedroom door shut in his face. 

She knew she was being childish. But being adult about things had not done her any good. Though she quickly realized she was absolutely stuck without him. _Fuck_. Letting out her own frustrated groan, she opened the door to find that Richard had gone to his room across the hall and shut his door. 

Seated on the edge of the bed in his trousers and dress shirt, he didn't have the energy to get further than to hang his coat, remove his tie, cufflinks and to start to unbutton the shirt itself. Though halfway through he scrubbed his face with his hands and fell backwards onto the bed. Richard was contemplating packing his bags and leaving. The bottom line was that his indecisiveness and insecurities were hurting Meredith. _She_ seemed quite certain about _him_ , after all. As much as he wanted to be the man she needed him to be, it was likely that if she could read his mind, she would realize that her innocently given faith in him was completely misguided. There were far too many times he wasn't so noble as he appeared to be. She was probably better off without him, to be honest.

If he left her, he would be no better than the Boone Osbornes and Victoria Merediths of her life...around when it suited them to be. But if he stayed...he didn't know how much longer he could keep control of his feelings for her. Not that she seemed to want him to. And she was an adult, with a sharp mind and such a beautiful, gentle heart. And by some miracle she trusted him and returned those feelings. 

But, what about the physical part? The last time he slept with someone with no experience was... _Meredith would have been 3...best not to think about it on those terms..._ though hewinced anyhow. How could he put his hands on a woman 20 years his junior in good conscience? _Because it wouldn't just be sex..._

And how would he explain to his family that he met and fell in love with a 23 year old heiress he'd met on Twitter? To whom he had nothing tangible to offer. He certainly didn't own half of Manhattan and his career could be over at any time without warning. But all she really seemed to want from him is acceptance, companionship and love. And all she did ask of him was his friendship...that is, if she still wanted him at all after he had all but admitted that he was ashamed of his feelings for her, as if she’d done something wrong.

_I’m the one who started this in the first place. That makes you an asshole, Richard..._

Knowing she may just toss him out but also knowing she was dependent on him at the moment he knew he needed to go to her. Rising from the bed he opened his door to see that her door had opened and there was a dim light coming from her bedroom. He tapped on the door frame lightly with a knuckle, "Meredith?"

She was seated on the edge of her bed staring at nothing, much as he had been. God he was so beautiful standing there disheveled looking a bit contrite, and not just a little sick with anxiety.

She was acutely familiar with both feelings herself. "Are you leaving?"

"I had thought about it."

_Ouch..._

"And if you would rather I did leave, I would understand and respect that."

"Do you want to leave?" Her heart pounded, waiting for the death blow. It felt demeaning to stay seated but she was afraid to approach him so she rose to her feet. Afraid that her feelings would dissuade him from telling her the truth, she dropped her gaze to the floor, so that her face was obscured by her hair. She started trembling as if her blood had turned to ice. And people accused her of feeling nothing...If they only understood that cold burned as painfully as heat... _Ice Queen indeed._

Her hand absently touched the pendant that Richard had given her, sealed with a kiss that had filled her heart with so much hope a mere few hours before. How could an evening start so perfectly end so miserably? Her heart cried out to him, _Please don’t leave me..._

"No I don't." He never thought of her as particularly fragile until her head snapped up at his simply delivered answer and he spotted the glitter of unshed tears in her wide, vulnerable eyes. _My fault._

In two strides he was drawing her into his arms, and she buried her face against his chest. She was trembling, but the only sign that she was in fact crying was the dampness of her tears as they fell against the modest amount of exposed skin of his chest. Completely undone, he'd never felt more protective of anyone in his entire life outside of his own family. His heart unknowingly answered hers, _I'm not going anywhere without you…_

It was heaven to be held by him, even if it was only guilt that motivated him. _How pathetic I am to be willing to take affection given out of pity?_ She was accutely aware of how one arm circled her, with his hand flattened against her back, holding her closely against him, while the dexterous fingers of his other hand had threaded their way into the hairs on the nape of her neck, stroking her soothingly. When he leaned his cheek against her forehead and whispered, “I’m so unbelievably sorry.”

Feeling her insides curl as she let out a shaky breath, she softly answered him. "Don't be. You were just being honest." She felt him shift. "I'm so ashamed of what I said…”

He felt her cringe. "Meredith, look at me. You gave me as good as I was giving." His blue eyes were full of sincerity and remorse when she did what he'd asked and could see. "I was being a coward, not being honest." She looked so confused he wanted to laugh. "If I’d been honest..." The question in her eyes compelled him to go further. "I was in trouble in London the moment I turned around and you were standing there. The truth is, if you asked me to leave tonight I’d be begging you to let me stay."

"I don't understand..." Tentatively, hope bloomed a little.

"I think you do.”

The way he'd said that last bit felt like a caress. The glimmer in his eyes suggested a double entendre and made her entire body go hot and weak. As his eyes dropped briefly to her chest as it rose and fell a touch more rapidly due to their respective proximity, it occurred to her that he was looking at her as a man who looks at a woman he desires. It was a thought that made her shiver a bit. She knew her nipples had hardened in reaction and the thin fabric of her dress and the delicate lace of her bra did little to conceal them from his gaze. When his eyes met hers again, there was something else in them, he was a man on the edge of his own restraint. Her stomach rapidly tied itself in knots.

He leaned closer, bringing his mouth nearer, pulling her against him he lightly kissed the corner of her mouth, and then her cheek. When she shivered he kissed her lips just as lightly. “Meredith, I..."

 _This is where it begins._ Her eyes pleaded with him, yet he was still hesitant. That's when, in an uncharacteristically bold move, she brought her good hand to the back of his neck, bringing his head down so that she could reach his mouth with hers. She had no idea what she was doing, but she'd decided that she needed to let him know that he had her permission. Interrupting his flow of words, she kissed him, closing her eyes and savoring the sensation of his mouth on hers. She wasn't sure if she was any good at it, but must have done something right as he reacted immediately by pressing his hand to her back a little more firmly, urging her body against his.

As his mouth opened against hers, she tentatively touched his lower lip with her tongue. His sharp intake of breath encouraged her fledgeling attempt to arouse him. Driven by his response as much as by curiosity she continued. The moment he felt her tongue touch his he was done for and unable to stifle his moan of pleasure that her sweet, natural sensuality had inspired. It was the sexiest thing he'd ever experience.

Gentl, he took the lead and kissed her with all of the pent up emotions he'd been holding in. She seemed content to relinquish her control of the kiss and turned to liquid in his arms. The last vestiges of their argument faded away as his lips met hers again and again, changing angles, testing relishing the way it felt to allow himself to enjoy her as he’d been dying to for what seemed like an eternity. But he was slow in his exploration of the curve of her mouth and the taste of her. She knew there was something in his chosen pace that he was giving her every opportunity to put a stop to things in case they got to a place where she wasn’t comfortable going with him just yet. But the sweet way he was kissing her was as if she were the most precious thing on earth to him. He threaded her curls through his fingers as he caressed them gently away from her face with aching tenderness, all the while kissing her as if he could be content doing just that forever with her.

The ache inside of Meredith’s belly burned lower. She was ready for more. _This man is the one._

“Richard?” her breathy voice tickled his mouth.

His blue eyes, darkened with his own need met hers as he answered between light kisses, “Yes?”

“Make love to me?” 

  



	7. The "F" Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((NSFW))

  


When Richard went completely still, she realized she'd really just said that out loud. _Oh my god..._ That maddeningly penetrating gaze never left hers when he asked, "Are you sure?" 

Which meant he was seriously considering it. _Oh my god..._ The jolt of arousal that hit her gave her the courage she needed to answer him honestly. "Yes." 

For several agonizing heartbeats he searched her face, and she thought she was in danger of him pushing her away once again. But then her scalp tingled as the hand that was in her hair slipped around to the back of her head to hold her in place as he answered her with a number of deep, slow, sensuous kisses. He drew his other hand down to the small of her back, molding her body to him. Her breasts were mashed against his hard chest which was vibrating with the slamming beat of his heart. For the first time in her life, she experienced a man’s growing arousal as Richard’s erection rapidly made an appearance as it was pressed between them. _Oh my god..._

When she let out a little gasp of surprise he murmured, "Yes, love, you do that to me," against her lips. "I completely tired of fighting how much I want you, Meredith."

"Oh my god thank you...I've wanted you so badly."

He nipped at her chin playfully, "Don't thank me yet, you never know, I might be terrible at this."

"I somehow doubt it," she giggled shyly. That giggle stopped the moment she felt him draw the zipper of her dress down. The air felt cool against the exposed skin on her back as those lovely hands took a moment to explore before he parted the material. Stepping back a bit, he peeled the dress down her body while his hungry eyes followed its path. There was such awe and reverence in his expression that she felt no embarrassment to this new level of familiarity that grew between them. "I have a confession..." 

His eyebrows rose as he met her gaze again. "Oh?" 

"I think I like this much better when you're enjoying yourself." She could feel herself blushing again.

Amusement danced in his eyes for a moment as he lifted from the floor as if she weighed nothing and laid her gently across the bed. "I have a similar confession, Ms. Osborne." His fingers deftly unbuttoned the shirt and as he shrugged it off he added, "I might have enjoyed myself a little every single time. But I'll be sure to make you aware of it from now on." His grin was wolfish as he winked at her. 

Richard was someone she'd seen shirtless countless times on screen. But to have his broad shoulders, and well muscled chest not three feet away made her current reality nothing short of incredible. How many times had she joked with Abby about saving herself for Richard Armitage when Abby had harassed her about her chronic celibacy. The joke was that it was presumed as something entirely impossible, knowing that she was really just waiting for the right man to come along to displace the object of her sexual fantasies. And in a way, Richard did that as the reality of him was so much better than she had imagined him to be. The truth was that she was not nearly as attracted to her fantasy as she was to the man in front of her.

After having discarded his trousers on the floor at the side of her bed, he started nibbling, nipping and kissing his way along her graceful jawline. She arched up, rolling her head back and whispered his name in a voice radiating the bliss she felt. His days growth of beard tickled and rasped against her delicate skin and sparked little flames of need within her. 

She was heaven to touch, and he was powerless to stifle his groan as his hands roamed over the softness of her nubile young body. His breath caressed her ear when he murmured, "Don't be afraid to touch me, I've wanted that for longer than you realize."

So she did. It was the most incredible experience to be allowed to put her hands on him. She cursed the fact that she could only use one hand to explore the contours of his chest, shoulders and back, but forgot that quickly as his hand swept down the curve of her lace covered breast, down her belly, to gently grasp her thigh and pull it up fitting together so intimately. Instinct had her thrusting her hips upward to press the part that ached the most against his rock hard length. Instead of helping it only served to intensify her neediness for him. Richard growled his approval into her mouth as they continued to drink each other in. _Oh my god..._

As her leg was now locked around him he brought his hand back to her breast to cup it before pursuing the removal of her bra. When he felt her grinning against his mouth he paused and gazed down on her questioningly. “You’re not very observant are you?” She teased. “It’s in front.” He stared down at her in confusion for a moment until he spotted the little clasp between her breasts. 

“You do know that in order to have gotten this one off of you there would have been no way for me to not look.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

Feigning nonchalance she shook her head. “What do you know, you’re right.”

His eyebrows rose in mock disapproval. “You’re either a terrible actress or terrible liar.”

“I’ll agree that it’s some on both accounts.” She giggled at him. “It was Abby’s idea. She said men don’t notice hints so sometimes a girl has to drop a piano or two instead.”

“I see...” He chuckled a bit as he flipped open the clasp. “No need for the wanton destruction of a perfectly good piano when a particularly exquisite pair of breasts in my face will suffice.” Hers were firm under her ivory skin and rosy little tips. “My god Meredith...do you have any idea how beautiful you are and how difficult it has been to behave myself around you?” He delicately laid his hand over one of them.

Her heart flipped over at his words as her nipple tightened against his palm as her ache for him deepened. But when he closed his mouth over the sensitive tip, a shock wave of pleasure shot through her body. Her free hand clenched against his shoulder in response as he began to tug and suck at one before turning his attention to the other. Her libido felt like it was savagely clawing it's way to the surface and instinct took over as she moved restlessly, rubbing the ache against him once again.

This time he responded in kind, pressing himself against her, matching her undulating rhythm. Her ragged moan brought his gaze to her face, which was flushed with passion. His eyes were dark and fierce as he stared down at her..."Richard...p-please...I need you to..." She didn't know exactly what to ask for but he seemed to understand completely as his hand skimmed her hip, pulling her flimsy underwear down in an impressively smooth move maneuver of an experienced lover. 

That’s precisely when he realized his gross oversight. "Unbelievable,” he groaned and dropped his head to her forehead. “For fuck’s sake…how stupid can I be?” 

Swallowing down panic she forced out a voice that was steadier than she felt. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t believe this...I don’t have condoms.” He rolled off with a frustrated growl. “And I don’t imagine you’re on anything. I doubt you'd appreciate an unplanned pregnancy as a souvenir?" He didn't know whether to laugh or cry 

_He was worried about birth control...Oh thank god..._ She nearly wept with relief that he hadn’t changed his mind at the last minute. “No, I'm not on the pill yet and , it would be better if pregnancy didn't happen right now. Good thing I have condoms in the drawer of my night table.” She explained with a hint of embarrassment in her tone. When he turned to stare at her in a semi state of disbelief she hastily added, “What? Abby brought them...just in case?”

His crooked little grin flashed at her as he shook his head, “I never stood a chance did I?”

“Oh yes, a front clasping bra and a box of condoms, how could you possibly resist my seductive prowess?” she said flatly trying not to feel self-conscious of the fact that she was lying there completely naked. 

His rumbling chuckle answered her as he rolled and reached into her drawer. “Starry eyed looks through a pair of red glasses on that beautiful face of yours was all it ever took to make me want you.” He admitted. Finding the condoms he to locate them and shed his underwear. She dared herself to look down at his... _Oh dear god...will he even fit?_

He watched as her eyes widened, her face turned red and her gaze snapped back to his face. Some nerves were normal. But it was clear to him that he needed to slow down. He crawled into bed beside her and drew the blankets down and said, "Come here." She slid next to him and he folded the blankets around them. Then he adjusted so that the length of his body was in contact with hers, smiling gently as he felt her shiver at the newness of the experience. He was propped up on his elbow so that he easily lean down and kiss her, which he did. 

"Did I do something wrong? Don't you want to..."

"Why Ms. Osborne, are you in a hurry to get it over with?" He teased her a bit.

She let out a breathy giggle. "No I just...thought you were ready." Proof of that was resting heavily on her hip. 

"Clearly I am. But I'd rather you be ready as well." When she opened her mouth to protest he shook his head, "You're wound as tight as a bowstring, Meredith."

"I'm sorry...this is just new."

"I know, love." The softness of the kiss he gave her in answer pulled at her heart, and she laid her good hand on his chest again, stroking the hair roughened skin there. Slowly, he could feel the tension ease from her. He deepened the kiss as he caressed her neck, then her breasts, grazing her nipples, blazing a trail down her stomach. When his fingers found the trimmed hairs between her legs she couldn't concentrate on anything but how he was touching her. He did not ignore the fact that she tensed up again. His eyes found hers. “Do you need me to stop?”

“No, it feels so good. This must be so frustrating for you…I can see why you wouldn’t want to be bothered with someone who doesn’t know what to do.” She felt like crying she was so disappointed in herself. 

She looked so crushed and it was obvious that she was trying to be so brave. Now that he understood that he’d shaken her confidence to the extent that he had with his stubbornly noble intentions. He knew that she deserved to have that restored before he was even close to deserving of how much of herself she was offering him. He withdrew his hand and buried his face in her neck, “Oh sweetheart…You’ve got it all wrong. And that’s my fault.”

“I don’t understand.” 

He planted a kiss on her neck before lifting his head. There was so much he had to say and some of it still frightened him a bit so that the words came out in a rush. “This is far from an imposition as I consider myself a very fortunate man that you trust me to be your first lover. I know my actions have been confusing, and have bollocksed things a bit between us more than once. I owe you the truth. You’re an incredible woman, wise beyond your age. I am never bored when I’m with you. I have to force myself to remember you're actually younger than I am most of the time. I know that I've not been good at showing you that. It is nothing short of a perfect miracle that we connected so easily considering how we met, and how unlikely it was to have happened at all. I am positive that it had happened for good reason and I’ll never, ever regret being your friend for as long as I live and breathe.”

_Friend…_


	8. One of the Biggest Mistakes of My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our hero pulls his foot out of his mouth only to shove it straight back in. ((NSFW))

  


What he had said had been heartfelt, sweet, sentimental and she had little doubt it was the truth. He obviously cared about her. He would be sweet, respectful and would take good care of her. Why did it feel like a kick to the chest to hear him say that in the context of a friendship? Surely that had to be better than someone who would tell her that he loved her so that she would sleep with him.

The difference was that she would have rather he had said nothing of love, and waited to tell her the other. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself the luxury of hoping for something so magical. Her entire relationship with him was fraught with serendipity. She could kick herself for allowing herself to believe that someone like Richard could really love her, not when there were so many more suitable choices for him than her. As much as she honestly wanted him, sleeping with him would be an absolute disaster. _I don't want to be a pity fuck..._

Abruptly, she sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest and on an exhale she said, “Oh my god...I can't do this."

She said it in such a way that Richard wasn’t entirely sure if she was speaking to him, or making a rhetorical statement. One thing that was clear was that the heat between them had all but evaporated. _Dammit I pushed too hard for feelings too soon and spooked her._ "It's alright, you don't have to. I understand. I'm sorry..." Sitting up he nodded. _Well this was a disaster..._

He sounded a bit injured. _No no no don’t feel bad..._ "No...you're just being honest with me about how you feel." She blinked back tears. "I actually appreciate that about you."

He could hear the tremor in her voice. “I didn't realize my feelings for you would upset you. I thought...I thought you at least suspected how I felt and that you felt the same way." Rejection stung and it made tone grow increasingly snappish.

"I do...we _are_ friends, Richard. I didn't ask for promises of anything else."

The injury of her words cut him further, and he was beyond the point where he could keep himself from sounding as upset as he felt anymore. "Well when you asked me to make love to you I did expect that I was special somehow to you. And maybe that there was love involved?” _God I sound like a twat…_

“Christ Richard you are special to me. I thought…” She paused and just stared at him and replayed what he just said for a moment.

That famous temper of his was there in the room in all of its glory. “You thought what exactly, that your age would excuse playing me for some kind of fool?”

“What? You’re seriously not upset that...well that we’re not…”

His eyes went completely cold. “No. I can see now that you did me the courtesy of being honest with me before I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.” Richard was not a man who had to raise his voice to communicate full-blown anger as the words sliced out at her and hit their mark with deadly impact.

She didn't exactly flinch more than her posture went rigid as the light in her eyes had been extinguished by his words. She shut her eyes and pressed her lips tightly together. The air was thick with tension as her reaction snapped him out of his anger and he immediately regretted what he had said. Hastily, he said, “Meredith...I didn’t mean that.”

Opening her eyes, they were shining with tears she would die before letting fall while he was still in the room. “I don’t know that I believe you right now. But I think that talking about it in the morning would be best. I need to be alone right now.”

  
  


Meredith wasn't sure if she would find Richard there in the morning after how bad things had gotten between them. She managed to put on her nightgown after wrestling with it for a few minutes before she fell into a completely frustrated, distraught pile at the foot of her bed succumbing to heart wrenching sobs until exhaustion finally claimed her.

Richard tossed and turned for the better part of an hour before self loathing and guilt nearly ate him alive. With an irritated groan he sat up giving into his pathological need to check on Meredith. In the dim glow of the bedside lamp he could see her as she’d fallen asleep. Tension held her young face and her tear stained cheeks made him feel like his stomach was trying to digest a rock. He sighed, gently lifted her and placed her in the center of the large, soft bed with her head on the pillows. As he pulled the blankets over her he heard her whisper, "Stay..."

When his startled eyes cut to her face, she knew he’d heard her. His deep voice was thick with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. We'll talk in the morning, yeah?"

As he backed up her hand closed around his wrist. “Please...stay with me.”

Her eyes were vulnerable, needy and pleading with him. _Dammit._ Did she have any idea what she did to him? Of course not, she was practically asleep. He was utterly defenseless. With a gentle voice he explained, “I will, just let me get the light."

  
  
  
  
  


She woke early having slept like the dead in the warmth of Richard’s arms, with her head on his chest. It felt so good to be there that she never wanted the moment to end. Her eyes prickled... _stupid, stupid girl…_

Blanketed in a twitchy discomfort that vulnerability brought he barely slept. Unaware that she was awake, hearing her voice was a bit of a surprise, “I’m not playing you.”

When he felt the dampness of her tears against his skin he tightened tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “I’m so unbelievably sorry. I’m at a complete loss for what to say to you that would make my behavior and what I said to you anything other than something unforgivable. I...didn’t mean it, not the way I said it and certainly not the way you might think.”

She rolled onto her back and wiped at her eyes, feeling completely exposed and weary from the sustained uncertainty of their relationship. If this was what being in love was like, she wished she could make it stop. Really of all the people in the world, to actually be in love with Richard Armitage was about as foolish as it came. And the longer she was with him, the deeper she fell. Perhaps it would have been much better if he had left. But she could vividly feel his lips and his hands everywhere. To even have a taste of what it was like to be made love to would be something she couldn't bring herself to regret. But he made it clear that he would regret it and that hurt like hell. How could that have meant to be anything other that what it had sounded like?

He sat up, rubbing his face with his hands. When it was clear that he wasn't going to elaborate she followed suit and placed a hand on his shoulder. Unwilling to let him avoid her any longer she dared herself to look directly into those startlingly blue eyes, "Please help me understand."

“Fine.” He sounded irritable. Bracing herself for the worst of it, his next statement took her by surprise. "Your rejection hurt, actually. And while I'm not completely unfamiliar with the concept, if you’re looking for a ‘friends with benefits’ relationship with me, I can’t do that with you."

Her eyes widened, "Wait...what? That’s not what I want at all. I stopped because I thought that's what you wanted, and I just couldn’t do it."

His surprise joined hers. "Good lord no. What on earth gave you that idea?" It suddenly struck him, _We were talking past each other last night._ Hope bloomed.

Had the misunderstanding of last night not been so hurtful, this conversation would have been amusing. As it was, she couldn't believe that the walking, living, breathing romantic dream of a man in front of her could be that clueless. "Maybe the fact that you very clearly relegated me to the friend-zone?"

His facial expression only conveyed further confusion. "Friend-zone?"

Richard may be a dream come true but he was still a man, and definitely didn’t get it. "The oubliette of relationships...the kiss of death? The 'I like you but I don't LIKE-like you' place? The--"

“Oh for Christ’s sake, Meredith,” His frustration was growing as his brows furrowed cutting off her nervous flow of words, "I'm not _that_ bloody old. I know what it means. But I never said any of those words together, in that combination, much less in that context."

"But you dropped the F-word pretty deliberately, Richard." She’d raised her hands to create quotation marks with her fingers in the air between them and ended up glaring at her incapacitated hand instead.

He paused and blinked for a moment, giving that statement serious thought. "I guess in that I am guilty. But again it wasn't a brush off, and I'm sorry it sounded that way. Perhaps it's a generational thing or a cultural thing, but I don't toss that word around so lightly as some do. But you, your mere presence and your friendship were unexpected...the depth of my feelings for you...well suffice it to say that that I wasn't prepared for them. I know I handled things rather poorly. But last night...I was ready to throw away my pride and my bloody noble intentions and quit denying what I so desperately wanted if there was a chance that you truly returned my feelings.”

She couldn't believe what was happening. Was Richard actually laying it all out there, hat in his hands and heart on his sleeve? This was like something out of a movie. _This has to be a dream…_

His eyes crinkled a bit at the corners, “You look about as tired as I feel, but you’re definitely awake.”

“I said that out loud?”

“Trust me, if could read minds last night would have gone much differently.”

There was something darkly suggestive in his voice that alerted her of the change in the atmosphere between them. But it hadn’t given her much time to prepare as his hand cupped the side of her face. She felt his warm breath between them before his lips captured hers. With skillful insistence, his tongue gained access to her mouth not wasting time before deepening his kiss. She’d never been kissed by anyone quite like the way Richard kissed her. His mouth was warm and sure, moving over hers, making her body hum with a heat and need that blossomed deep within her. Every inch of skin on her body was begging for his touch.

He drank her in, wanting, demanding in a way that drove her crazy. Shifting his position he moved to lay back against the pillows, gathering her against him until she was lying on top of him. Her eyes widened when she could feel him rock-hard and throbbing between her legs. She couldn’t help but gasp, and his resulting little smirk was definitely predatory. “Yes, Meredith, if we continue, you know exactly where I intend to take this.”

She stared down at him for a moment before she answered him by kissing him. When he tore his mouth away to bury his face in her neck, his nips and nibbles had her shivering, whimpering and barely clinging to sanity. Everything was different than it was last night and whatever had made that moment not right had been removed. She didn’t feel ashamed of her body's needs and he didn't seem ashamed of his wanting her. It was so much like she’d dreamed it would be. His touch was sure, his body felt so good, and they fit together so perfectly. It was wonderful to be able to indulge herself by loving him and touching him. After allowing herself time to explore every lovely contour, hair and muscle of his bare chest. She thrilled even more when her tongue flicked at one of his nipples he practically growled her name. "You're driving me mad, woman!" he groaned as she teased him a little more before she found his mouth again.

 _More!_ Her ache was raging between her legs wanting him on top of her, inside her. Her movements against him reflected her need. He groaned as he rolled them so that she was on her back beneath him, tugging the bodice of her nightgown down so that he could cup her bare breast, flicking his thumb across her nipple. He spent long minutes tasting and teasing the sensitive points, much to her pleasure until she thought she would die from it.

“P-Please…I need you in me.” She never in a million years pictured herself begging for sex. It was even less likely that it would result in Richard being the one, backing up, helping her remove her nightgown and shedding the pajama pants he’d been wearing to reveal the impressive display of arousal that was her doing. 

But moments later he was wearing a condom and pushing her back onto the bed, following her. He nudge her legs apart, and lowered himself between them. He was right there, hard and ready. His weight felt incredible. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, but she trusted him in a way she’d never trusted anyone.

He stared down at her for a long moment, his heart was in his eyes, and she knew that no matter what happened later that the moment was perfect. His kiss was tender, slow and sweet before his velvety voice said. “This isn’t something we can un-do once it’s done. Are you sure this is what you want?”

The tenderness on his face tugged at her heart and overrode the little nudge of fear. “You, I want you, Richard.”

He adjusted his position a little, pressing himself against the opening. When he could push and felt her give just a little he kissed her once more before asking. “Ready?”

“Yes.” The next movement was slow, deliberate, smoothly pushing himself inside. The pain was sharp, hot and immediate. Then it would subside before he moved further, little by little, going deeper until he met with the point of most resistance. He waited a moment more until he could feel her relax again, and once more he pulled back and thrust forward, all the way inside of her. She cried out as the double edged sword of sharp pain and equally sharp pleasure struck her in that order.

She squeezed him so tightly he groaned, resting his forehead on hers for a moment so that he could regain his self control. “Are you alright? Am I hurting you?” 

Her smile was radiant and instantaneous, “More than alright, and it only hurt at first...this is...we're doing this. I don't think two human beings can get physically closer than this. It feels incredible."

When she put it in those terms it really was incredible. He couldn't help but grin over her wide-eyed innocence. "Well, there's a few more steps yet. But I'm glad you like it so far."

She nodded sheepishly, "Do you like it?"

His face grew serious as he stroked her cheek. "Which part? Being as close to you as I can physically be? Being the first man who has ever been with you? Being able to show you how I feel about you? More than you could possibly imagine, Meredith." 

That was the last coherent exchange between the two of them as Richard showed her exactly how incredible he could make her feel, more than once, before he sought his own release. He was holding her protectively as they were tangled in the sheets together, still joined as she drifted back to sleep. While it would take him longer to follow, he eventually did. But not before she nuzzled closer and murmured, "I love you so much, Richard." _  
_

  



	9. "Babe"

  


Richard’s hand shot out from the warmth of the blanket in irritated pursuit of the offending object which woke them. Meredith had to push the hair from her face in order to see that Richard was holding her phone up for her. “You have a text,” his sleep roughened voice rumbled.

She and Richard were naked, and she was aware of every bit of skin that was in contact with his. _Holy cow!_ Images of Richard's face looking down into hers while he asked her if she was ready flickered through her mind. This dream wasn't unfamiliar to her. He was hard as a rock against her hip at that moment and she was certainly not dreaming that. _Morning wood's a real thing?_ She wasn't entirely naive but knew enough to know that she couldn't take everyone's word for it when it came to sex. The fact that she'd expected that first time to basically suck had shown her that either too many women she knew were doing it wrong or Richard just knew how to do it better than the men they'd been with. After the internal commentary died away, it dawned on her. _I had sex with the man of my dreams!_ _  
_

"Wakey wakey Sweetheart?" He was left wondering what on earth was going on in her head at that moment. 

Blinking twice before giving him an absurd look through blurry eyes she shook her head. “Showing that to me right now won’t accomplish much as my glasses are in the bathroom. Would you mind reading it for me?”

"You really are that blind?" He chuckled cocking an eyebrow. “What are you going to do when you’re my age?”

Her answer was delivered with a flutter of her lashes. “Well that’s like forever from now, right?" 

“Cheeky woman..." He grumbled in mock irritation as he swiped across the screen. The photo of them at the London Hobbit BOFTA premiere appeared. His grin was heard in his voice. "Nice home screen."

"Oh fuck I forgot that was..." She felt her face grow hot. A detail that his eye crinkles told her he enjoyed immensely. Giving him a playful swat she hissed. "leave me alone, it's not like you aren't aware I was a huge fan." She silently thanked her lucky stars that the previous photo, a gloriously shirtless Richard, had been replaced by this one. 

"Jerry says, ‘when am I picking you up Friday... _babe_?’" The way Richard had said the word babe compounded her embarrassment. What surprised her was the way he turned his head. His expression was unreadable, but his tone reflected his displeasure. "You had a date on Friday?”

“Apparently?” When his brows started to knit together she groaned. _Was he really still jealous of Jerry?_ “No. Well, I didn’t set this up anyhow. There’s a charity gala, it’s a big deal for the Children’s hospital and my mother is the event chair. Very high profile and the only thing I’ll do with my mother...or any family really...for Christmas, pathetically. I told her I didn’t have a date and that if I had one I’d let her know. Stop frowning at me like that. It’s not as if it didn’t occur to me to ask you. Up until a few hours ago we were doing a fair job mucking things up on our own proving that I had every reason to believe that your answer would be no." 

“That’s not why I’m frowning.” He was unwilling to admit to his own jealousy...not directly anyhow. “He called you babe.”

Why did he have to say it in a way that sounded even more ridiculous than it already was? “He calls all women babe. I’m not special to him.” She sat up and shrugged adding, “The feeling’s mutual in that regard. So...do you maybe want to be my date to this thing? If you were hoping for a low profile relationship with me...this is a highly publicized event."

"That depends..." His lip twitched ironically, “Do I get to call you babe?”

Her eyes rolled, though she was incapable of being seriously annoyed when his long-fingered hands were grazing the exposed skin of her back. “I’m serious. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my personal life is not exactly private, there are some nasty skeletons and I know you value your privacy.”

“I’m confused. Are you trying to talk me into going with you or out of it?” It was an unusual turn of events to have this particular conversation not initiated by him and a possibility he hadn’t fully considered. He was used to being the person with a public life that most couldn’t stomach beyond the perceived allurement of it. He wondered if the two of them together would create more of a stir than they did separately. 

An ironic smile appeared as she nodded. "I want you to come with me. I just want you to know ahead of time what you're agreeing to by being my b..." Dammit! She wanted to bite off her own tongue for her verbal overreach. “...my date.” It was a poor attempt to cover her ass at best, and Richard was no fool.

His gaze wandered over sex-rumpled Meredith before resting on her worried face looking as if she were caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. She was, in a nutshell, adorable. "You weren't going to say 'date.'" He lifted her good hand and toyed with the graceful fingers. “What were you going to say?”

Her stomach was doing somersaults. “It slipped out.” Richard was not a man that seemed terribly uncomfortable with instances of prolonged eye contact. It was a detail that was working against her in spades as he calmly waited for her to give him what he clearly wanted from her. But did he have to keep looking at her with those beautiful blue eyes looking all gorgeous and... _dammit,_ “I was going to say boyfriend, but you knew that.”

“I just wanted to hear you say it.” He murmured in that voice that was warm velvet and sex as he swept the hair at the base of her neck aside and sent little sparks of arousal through her with his lips against the sensitive skin. He snaked his free hand around her waist and tugged the sheet she was holding demurely against herself from her fingers, exposing her breasts to his touch. "I'll go on one condition."

The pink little peaks tightened in response to Richard’s well-executed seduction as his thumbs traced feather light circles around each one. Arousal coiled its way through her. "Richard..." His name came out on a sigh as she shivered. Capturing his fingers in her good hand she said, “If you want me to be capable of following this conversation, you need to stop that for a moment. Don’t pout, I said for the moment, not forever.”

He turned his hand obligingly and toyed with her fingers again. “I don’t pout, I brood.” When she tried to cover herself it was his turn to capture her fingers. 

_Yes, because knowing you're looking at my tits is far less the distracting turn-on than having you fondle them is._ “You definitely brood. But don’t delude yourself, you also pout...By the way if your condition is to call me ‘babe’...” 

"I'm not quite so banal as to do that...unless I wished to annoy you anyhow." His tone grew serious and did she detect a note of shyness in the tone? “I'd like you suspend your subscription to...how did you put it...wealthy jackass of the month.”

“You felt you had to ask me to do that?”

“After last night I’m unwilling to take a risk.”

"Good point.” She shifted a bit, and before she lost her nerve, she placed his hand back on her breast causing him to smile. "Then let me make it easy. I'm all yours if you want me to be." 

As she leaned in for a kiss he stopped her gently. "Oh, I definitely want you to be as much as I want to be yours."

The phone vibrated on the bed next to them. "Electronic leash..." She muttered with annoyance.

Not bothering to attempt to read the caller ID she pointed the screen towards Richard who read, “Mummy Dearest?” He stilled his hand but didn’t remove it.

Rolling her eyes she answered, “Good morning, Victoria.”

“Good morning? Mere, darling it’s 12:30. Are you still in bed?”

As the rasp of his morning growth of beard tickled her neck while he nuzzled and nibbled on her neck she wanted to say, _I'_ _m being sexed up by Richard Armitage, why would I want to leave?_ Instead, she settled with, “I had a late night. Daddy was in town. I’d still be asleep, but I received a strange text message from Jerry about a date I can’t recall making with him. You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”

“Oh he did contact you! Though I don’t know why he texted you and didn’t call. I don’t understand young people and their lack of manners. You’re welcome, by the way. I didn’t want you to come to the party alone again.”

“Well funny you should be concerned about that since I won’t be and now you’ll have to find a different date for Jerry.”

There was a pause. “Oh? Well that’s awkward.” The tone was accusatory.

“Not for me it isn’t. But it will be if my boyfriend answers the door to Jerry if he arrived after being mislead by my mother...”

Victoria's tone was sharp. "You can hardly fault me for this, you never tell me anything about your life. I suppose your father’s and...whatever her name is have already met him?”

“They’ve been married for several years, her name is Alessa. Daddy called because he was concerned when he received a call from the emergency room the other night. By the way, I’m alright.”

“Well I figured if you needed something you would have called me yourself. But I’m glad you are. So is this one of your poets or street musicians?” 

Richard was intrigued by the phone exchange between mother and daughter. Meredith’s sharpness must have either skipped a generation or come from her dad. It was clear that Victoria did not at all understand Meredith, which saddened him. Meredith, however, had her mother figured out perfectly and didn’t waste this opportunity to mess with her. Much to his amusement, by the end of the phone conversation her mother knew his first name, that he was an actor, wasn’t in anything recently that she would have seen and was between jobs. It was all he could do not to bark with laughter when he heard Victoria say, “Honestly, Meredith, you and your collection of starving artists...just see that this Richard fellow bathes and dresses properly. Black tie isn’t optional, after all it’s not just your reputation you’re risking here.”

When the conversation ended, Mere’s eyes met his, they were glittering with something other than humor. It was clarity and certainty that comes from a level of self-awareness that most people did not possess. At times like these it was difficult to remember she was only 23, and one of the reasons he found her to be on equal footing with him in some rather fundamental ways. _Old soul..._ It was then that he understood that her softly spoken declaration of love was not done on youthful impulse or in reaction to having sex. Well then...With that realization came a sharp free fall sensation that he’d not felt in ages. One that he'd always associated with young love. And it was something he’d thought, at this stage in his life, he was long past the point of experiencing again. Maybe it was too soon. Perhaps it was foolish. His parents were going to think he'd lost his mind. But he was unwilling to ignore in order for it to make sense to others. _She loves me..._

"You may regret agreeing t--" her nervous words were effectively silenced by his mouth drinking her in as he kissed her deeply again and again. When he pulled back, the intensity of his expression had her equally as dizzy as his mind-blowing kisses. His eyes were questioning hers as he reached for held up another condom. She nodded, not wanting to break the spell between them. 

This second time was different...though it wasn't that first time, this time was...more. Needing her to understand the depth of his feelings for her, he didn't break eye contact as they moved together. Utterly lost within the depths of a pair of Amber colored eyes belonging to a woman who was scandalously too young for him but seemed somehow perfect for him he whispered, "I love you too, Meredith." 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay new chapter coming soon after a good once over. Sorry for the drama and the deletion. I'm a moron and am grateful for your patience!


	10. Girlfriend Stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the update was so long in coming. I moved this summer and that was a big time suck. Thank you for reading and your feedback xx

It was a funny thing to be fully dressed and yet feel so exposed. However, that is precisely how Meredith felt as she climbed the stairs carrying a cup of coffee for Richard.  He'd done so much for her and making coffee was one of few things she could do with one hand. It became a sort of routine once he had taken the time to help her get ready before he took the opportunity to do the same. Except that normally she left the cup on his bedside table while the guest bathroom door was safely shut, or he was fully dressed when she handed it over. And today he was in her bathroom and he'd left the door open. He would certainly not be dressed. She knew people did this every single day without batting an eyelash. But it simultaneously thrilled and scared her. She’d been in a few relationships if that’s what you could call them anyhow. None involved spending the night or sharing space with someone. That wasn't shocking since, until Richard, she’d never been in love before. There was something that felt more intimate than sex in her witnessing a man’s personal grooming habits, especially when the man in question was literally the man of her dreams.

 _How long would it take for him to figure out that he was dealing with a rank amateur for a girlfriend?_ It seemed to come naturally to him as he’d given her more physical affection in the past 24 hours than she’d given anyone or gotten…ever. And maybe that shouldn’t be such a monumental thing but her parents were not demonstrative people. She knew they loved her in their own way, but they never said so and were not prone to displays of affection. Richard wasn’t aware of that detail and couldn’t possibly know that it took every ounce of courage she possessed tell him how she felt and that when she said it, she meant it. She couldn't remember the last time she had actually said, "I love you," out loud. To her they were quite possibly the three scariest words in the English language when spoken together.

Steam wafted from her bathroom as she found Richard standing in front of the mirror. His sharp blue eyes were carefully scrutinizing the shadow of a day’s growth of beard on his jawline. If he was debating whether or not he should shave it off, she hoped he wouldn’t. But those were thoughts she’d keep to herself. One of her fluffy, cream-colored towels was wrapped about his narrow hips and his skin, flushed from the heat of the shower, was a little damp.  The desire to slide her arm around him and lay her cheek against the expanse of his back hit her as the scent of her body wash lingered in the humid air.

Before she entered the room and gave in to her uncharacteristic impulse, she hesitated. The ghost of a memory of her father pulling away from her mother and the irritation over similar unexpected demonstrations of affection played through her mind. She inwardly cringed at the hurt she'd witnessed in her mother's eyes over the rejection.

What would Richard want? He deserved more than a mocking. “Hi honey, here’s your coffee.” And a playful punch in the shoulder, which is what she’d done the morning before. _So, do I interrupt him? Would I be interrupting him? Does he expect me to go to him or would he rather I wait?_ It was possible that Richard would appreciate some privacy since she’d been practically up his ass for several days. She frowned. _And wait to do what exactly?_ Meredith rolled her eyes at herself while Richard who was currently unaware of her condundrum proceeded to brush his teeth. Instead of retreating back to her room to wait she leaned against the door frame like the world’s most indecisive voyeur so as not to appear too standoffish.

How was it that she wasn’t this awkward a few hours before? She would bet her life that Richard didn’t have mental debates about what forms of physical affection would be welcome that lay somewhere between a mind blowing orgasm and a high five.  The answer was definitely not not lamely staring at the other person as they put product in their hair.

Not that she wasn’t enjoying the view. Honestly, who could just turn around and walk away from such a blindingly gorgeous man wearing nothing but a towel? She allowed her eyes to wander over his toned, athletic physique that put many younger men’s bodies to shame. She loved the way his smooth skin moved with his muscles. Her gaze rested on the appealing little dimples on either side of his spine. They were just above where the towel barely concealed the most incredible pair of—“Are you objectifying me, Ms. Osborne?

 _Shit_! She was busted. Her gaze snapped back to his reflection in the mirror. Humor lit his expression confirming that her face must have looked as red as it felt. “A little.” No sense denying it now. "You're not the only one who enjoys looking."

His chuckle was deep as he turned towards her, leaning casually against the countertop, more confident that the towel would stay in place than she was. It was maddening as hell that he seemed fully aware of his effect on her. The corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile as he commented, “Yet you’re embarrassed that I noticed, and you seem…” His eyes narrowed as he became momentarily thoughtful. “…well for lack of a better term, lost.”

He watched her eyes widen in surprise at his observation. He could sense that she desperately wanted to look away but forced herself not to. It was admirable the way she instead gave back as good as she was getting. "I won't deny that I'm out of my element." Her narrow shoulders shrugged absently. "In all fairness this is the first time I’ve had a mostly naked man in my bathroom.” That sassy little statement brought a grin to his face before she added, “Also,” her voice grew soft, “I didn't want to intrude."

"I find that curious since you've just  _had_ a naked man in your bed, several times I might add." He took a little sadistic pleasure in watching her face heat up once again, "Is it so strange to find me here?" 

Now that’s what happened to the Richard, who hadn’t obsessed about their age difference and flirted with her on Twitter. She’d missed this side of him. "Hilarious. It's not entirely about the fact that there's  _someone_  in my bathroom. More that  _you're_ the someone in my bathroom. I think part of it is the fact that when I'm around you, I sort of forget that you're... _you._  And it makes me wonder how it is that you’re actually here and not a figment of my imagination…and what I really need to do is have my head examined…I'm not making any sense am I?" 

He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms in front of him, watching her with an unnervingly fascinated expression on his face. "You are a little. Which makes _me_ wonder if I should have _my_ head examined."

Her gasp of mock outrage was ruined by her giggle. "Oh, great thanks for that. You’re a total shit, you know that? You're totally enjoying the fact that you have me flustered." 

He removed the coffee cup and set it aside before tugging her closer. "You happen to be adorable when you're flustered." 

She hissed and shook her head. "As if you standing here looking like...something out of a very naughty sex dream doesn't do that on its own. Especially since I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing with you now that I have you." 

Her candid comment was one she immediately regretted as a wolfish grin appeared on his face. "What would you like to do with me?" He purred.

"Richard..." She groaned. "I'm serious." She halfheartedly tried to push herself away from him by planting a hand on his chest.

"As am I." 

She let out an inelegant snort. "You're grinning like the cat that ate the canary."

"Which doesn't mean the question I asked you wasn't a legitimate one." She looked more anxious as each second ticked by and he was at a loss as to why. "You need to relax, love, this part is not that complicated." He loosened his hold, not wanting her to feel caged by him and causing her more stress.

Taking the opportunity, she backed up a bit, "Maybe it wouldn’t be complicated for the million or so women who would bitch slap me if they knew I was this clueless and stupid. I don't know how to do this.”

His brows rose as he straightened away from the counter. “How to do what?”

“The relationship thing. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.” She backed up until she was against the wall. “You deserve better than someone like me.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” He wanted to tear his hair out in frustration when he wasn’t entirely sure what the problem was to begin with.

“I’m talking about not being able to give you what you want. Maybe they’re right when they call me the Ice—“

He planted both hands on either side of her head and growled, “Stop! Don’t even say it. Do I look like I’m a man who’s suffering at the moment?” He closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten. “Now pretend I have no idea what we’re nearly yelling about at the moment and fill me in on what it is that I want but am apparently not getting from you?”

“Girlfriend stuff.” She knew she needed to elaborate as he didn’t look any less confused. “I don’t know what’s allowed.” She dramatically moved to the bedroom and flopped heavily onto her bed.

It was clear that she was insecure about her place in his life. He was beginning to wonder if last night had taken things too far for her and she had regrets. _Am I expecting too much from her? Am I crowding  her?_ As his own worries began to manifest, it was then that he noticed that she'd moved his things from the guest room into her bedroom. He found his clothes and started to dress himself. “What do you mean what’s allowed?”

“For fuck’s sake, Richard. Are you going to ask me to clarify every single thing I say?”

“Only until I know what the hell you’re referring to.”

“What you like...Personal space, privacy and where your boundaries are. God maybe we should just drop the subject, I feel like such an idiot.” She groaned. As he buttoned his jeans he paused and stared at her.

Suddenly it dawned on him what she was trying to say. His voice was gentle as he took a seat beside her and asked, “Do I overstep yours?”

Meredith shook her head. “No. It’s really nice. I’m just not used to it.”

That last little statement spoke volumes about Meredith. It was easy to forget how young she was because she lacked the general neediness of someone her age. He didn’t consider the fact that affection wasn’t something she expected because she learned to live without it rather and didn't know anything different. Reaching over to brush her hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear. “Not even your parents?”

“No, my dad wasn’t around, even when they were married. And he hated it when I ‘hovered.’ And my mother wanted to raise me to be strong and independent. She didn’t want me to ‘need’ anyone.” She shrugged. “I’m not cold like people think."

“I’ve never once thought that. You’re overthinking this. Just relax. Learning how the other person ticks is part of being in a new relationship. That’s the fun part. Everyone has their own love language. Even you."

"You say the most wonderful things." She smiled. “I hope you're right because I just wish I could show you how I feel about you the way you do for me."

His eyes warmed. “You already have."

“I have?”

Her confusion was obvious and it pulled at his heart. "You brought my things from the guest room into yours."

 


	11. Words of Wisdom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving right along! Thank you for reading and forgiving me for having to repost after my stupid deletion. Thanks for the feedback and I hope you like where this is going <3

_**Jenny Armitage** @JArmitage_

_Saw @RArmitage last night at dinner. Who’s the lucky lady? pic.twitter.com/MC2h3y_

_⇐ **Annette** @MRSRArmitage_

_@JArmitage @RArmitage Isn’t it that one_ women _from the #BotFA London Premiere?_

 _⇐ you mean the one with the glasses?_  
_⇐ Yes, that one, lucky girl who is she? Are they together?_

  
_Oy...The cat was out of the bag. That certainly didn’t take long._ Richard stood up from the dining room table when he’d heard the kettle whistle.

The older woman standing at the counter making tea glared at him as he came through the doorway. “You can sit your little tush back down and let me serve your tea like a good boy.” He wasn’t used to having a housekeeper around, less so than Meredith. Boone had called her before he left New York. Greta had been Otto Meredith’s housekeeper until his passing. She was retired but obviously loved Meredith a great deal and was more than happy to take up the role for her. In fact, the older woman chastised her for not having called in the first place. He knew Mere bristled over the idea of having hired help more than was absolutely necessary, but because she felt guilty that he’d been doing everything, she relented. Though he didn’t mind.

Richard’s eyes warmed with mischief. “I was just making certain it was done properly.”

“You’ll be wearing the tea if you don’t stop sassing me sir, handsome friend of Ms. Osborne or not.” With a dismissive gesture of her hands she added, “Go park it.”

Acting the part of the properly scolded boy he returned to his seat and sat down. “I beg your pardon, madam.”

He should have clicked through and ignored the conversations that had been inspired by the photo. He usually did ignore them, knowing he would regret it the moment he didn’t. Instead, he leaned over the screen to continue reading through responses, against his better judgment.

 _⇐_ _She was with the Warner Bros. execs. Someone’s daughter maybe?_  
_⇐_ _She looks young enough to be Richard’s daughter IMHO_  
_⇐ Except that Richard doesn’t look old enough to be her father._  
 _⇐ That’s Meredith Osborne, I think. She doesn’t seem to mind his age. I know I wouldn’t._  
 _⇐ Oh god could you imagine if he looked at you that way?_  
 _⇐ Who the hell is that?_  
 _⇐ I’d give anything to have him look at me that way._  
 _⇐ Some snotty rich Manhattan socialite. Google her. They call her ‘Ice Queen’_  
 _⇐ Holy sh*t she’s 23! Dang Richard you dirty old man…_  
 _⇐ Can you blame him, she’s pretty and poised check out this press photo pic.twitter.com/MHjx78u_  
 _⇐ Well she can’t be a gold digger, she’s as rich as King Midas._  
 _⇐ I don’t know what he sees in her, she’s boring. I bet she’s a bitch._  
 _⇐ I wonder if she calls him ‘daddy’ in bed LOL_  
 _⇐ Oh man, I can’t picture this. >.<_  
 _⇐ God! will you guys show a little class? It’s none of our business._  
 _⇐ He should call me, I’m actually his age and I’d still call him ‘daddy’ :P_  
 _⇐What if Richard saw this? He looks happy, why would you want to ruin that for him?_  
 _⇐ don't be stupid, as if he'd ever see MY tweets out of hundreds of others. #FML_

He frowned darkly at the screen over the observation regarding his age. Few things said over the internet really bothered him. _Why is this different?_ Would people be able to accept that he was in love with someone half his age? How did it even happen?

“Did you get some bad news?”

The tea was set beside him, breaking him from his thoughts. The woman’s eyes were kind and in a lot of ways she reminded him of his mother. “Hmm?” He blinked for a moment, “Not really...just some fan drama my publicist drew my attention to this afternoon.”

She spotted the photo on the screen in front of Richard. “That’s a really nice photo. You make a beautiful couple if you don’t mind me saying so.” Richard’s mouth twitched in a hint of a smile that quickly dissolved. “What’s on your mind? I can tell it’s eating you up, something you’re not able to talk to her about as honestly as you might need to I’d bet. I’m good at listening and not running my mouth. Or you can tell me to mind my own damn business.”

Her voice was full of affection. His wary gaze met hers. “You don’t think I’m too old for her?”

Her smile was quick. “Is that the drama?”

“Admittedly yes.” He took a sip of the tea she’d made. He had to hand it to her, she knew what she was doing.

Noting the obvious surprise on Richard's face she remarked, "My late husband was from Salisbury. My mother in law told me that I'd never be a proper wife if I brewed tea like an American."

Richard sat back and a smile eased his frown as he chuckled. "She sounds like quite a character." He could almost picture an opinionated older woman saying such a thing. He’d have to ask his sister in law what kind of mother in law his own mother made. _Would it be different if he'd married an American?_ There was that funny free-fall feeling again that came with the sudden realization of where exactly his thoughts had just gone. _Wait, where did that come from?_

"She was." Greta's knowing smile was unsettling. "You know that it doesn't actually matter what I think, right? And it certainly doesn't matter what others think. The chances are that no matter who this might have been in the photograph with you, it wouldn’t make a difference in their response to it. Women aren't known to be exceedingly kind to each other when it comes to much. But when it involves the competition for the attention of an exceedingly attractive young man, claws and fangs are out in force."

He felt his face warm at the simply stated compliment. He still wasn't sure what it was that others saw that made his particular combination of attributes all that extraordinary. Emphasis was deliberately put on the word young. Age really was a matter of perspective after all. Drawing a long breath he nodded. "Thank you for thinking so. And I know that jealousy plays a part in their reaction. It’s really not about what they think. I just don't know how I'm going to explain this...her to my parents."

"Ah, we never stop being someone’s son or daughter no matter how old we get, do we?"

His slender hands scrubbed at his face. "Isn't that the irony of it? Here I am wondering if I’m too old and yet worried about what my mum will think.”

"It is possible that no explanation will be needed once they see the two of you together. When you look at her, do you see her age? Was that what attracted you?”

The warmth in his voice was tangible as he answered her. "No, certainly not in the way that people might think, it was her vibrancy. It's difficult to explain except that when I'm around her..." He shakes his head, "It just feels right and I feel so good. Could it be that simple?"

“I believe it can.” Greta liked that answer and it showed on her face. "What are you afraid of?"

"Honestly? She hasn’t experienced all there is of me, not entirely anyhow. When I’m working I’m driven and often very…direct, intense, moody? There’s a reason I’m in my 40s and a bachelor.”

Greta grinned, “I’ve heard that about you, not from her, but it isn’t exactly a secret. No offense.”

“None taken. Being notoriously difficult to live with isn’t something I don’t know about myself.” He supposed that Meredith wouldn’t be totally unaware of that either. “She’s young and sweet. This is her time to spread her wings a bit and experience everything she can." Richard rubbed at his jawline and stared back at the photo. Whoever snapped the photo had captured a moment that he’d taken Meredith’s hand and had spoken to her. She had been leaning into him so that he could keep his voice low as he spoke. There was no ignoring the chemistry between them. They looked like a couple. “I don’t want to take that away from her."

Greta’s eyes rested on the photo as she added, “Well, she doesn't look like she’s suffering to me. I am willing to bet that she’s a lot more like you than you realize. Wait until you meet her mother. If that woman or the school of sharks she’s lived among couldn't ruin it, then I don't think you have much to worry about.”

 

 

Meredith took the time to smooth the coffee colored skirt as Dr. Andrews took his seat across from her. At the previous session, she’d become aware that the psychiatrist was the same age as the very object of her affection. Funny, she didn’t notice her age difference in respect to Richard, but she couldn’t imagine sleeping with the man sitting across from her. It wasn’t that he wasn’t an attractive man. With his somewhat carelessly styled sand-colored hair and pale blue eyes, he was a good mix between refinement and ruggedness.

Suddenly she was horrified with herself and a blush heated her face. _Why am I thinking about sleeping with him at all?_ That was something her mother did. Victoria thought about men in terms of sex, or marriageability. Sometimes, in her mind, a man would fit into both of those categories. And if they did, her mother would try to sleep with them to the point of being predatorial about it when the mood struck her. When she tried that on Dr. Andrews, Meredith couldn’t remember a time in her life where she was more embarrassed and was actually worried that he would fire her as a client.

“You seem distracted.”

His voice broke her from her thoughts. “Hmm? Oh sorry. I was just...thinking.” This was one of those moments when she wasn’t sure Dr. Andrews couldn’t read her mind. There was something about the way he watched her when she was holding back some of what she was thinking.

His knowing smile was warm but unsettling. “It’s all right. Last time we left off you were going to London. How did it go?”

“Oh, better than I expected.” Meredith felt her cheeks grow hot as a little giggle escaped her.

“I take it you met your Twitter friend?”

The amusement in Dr. Andrews’ voice wasn’t unwarranted. Meredith rarely spoke about men in her life. And when she did, it was rarely positive. Mainly because there weren’t men in her life that caught her interest the way that Richard had. Yes, he was amused, but not in a way that was unkind or offensive. He was happy for her. “Mmm, yes, we’ve finally met in person.” Crossing her legs, she proceeded to tell him the story about how she came to be in a relationship with Richard Armitage. It was still unbelievable to her.

Dr. Andrews never listened to her stories with detached interest, but instead appeared quite invested in it by the time she was done. She turned her wrist up, staring down at the ugly silver lines, “He’s aware of this, and the baggage that surrounds it.”

“How does it feel to let him in that close?”

“Scary...good...mostly good. Sometimes...well to look at him it twists me up inside...He's just so...It's hard to describe really. When you're near him, he's very present. The way he looks at me...sometimes it's like he's trying to figure things out and as if knowing me was the most important thing in the world to him at that moment. My feelings for him happened so fast. It just feels...right. I told him I loved him.” She felt shy about admitting that to the point where she had whispered the words as she averted her eyes.  
  
When she ventured a look at him through her lashes she could feel her face burning. “It embarrasses you?”

“The words sound foreign to be honest.” A wan smile appeared on her face as she shrugged. “You know that my family isn’t...demonstrative with affection.”

“And what about Richard? Is he?”

An image of blue eyes above hers as Richard’s strong, solid body was moving with hers as he told her he loved her flickered through her mind. The resulting butterfly wings that fluttered around her heart warmed her smile. “Yes. Though I think it confuses him a bit.”

“What’s confusing about it?”

“I think he’s worried about what people will assume about us. I think he wishes he weren’t concerned about it, but our age difference was the elephant in the room for over a month. But I can tell it’s still there.”

“And you’re not concerned?”

“Only because it bothers him so, to be honest. He’s met my father who likes him. Certainly he’s not in a position to judge Richard for being with a younger woman, right? But Alessa got drunk and nearly had Richard running for the hills by running her mouth about it.” Meredith shifted in her seat. “It’s not as if I can’t carry a conversation with him, or I’m some girl whose world view isn’t bigger than her college campus. I think my age and relative lack of experience with relationships are qualities in me that was something he didn’t know he wanted.”

“That’s an interesting observation. Can you tell me why you think that?”

“He’s cautious, not unlike me. It’s not like the life of an actor is entirely normal and routine. Due to that, and the difficulty that might bring to the table, he hasn’t had a lot of experience. But he’s had more than me due to time, right? Not that he’s said this, but I think he feels a bit behind in that respect when it comes to people his age, and with me around he feels his ship hasn’t sailed yet. I think that we’re learning a lot from each other actually.“

Dr. Andrews smiled. “And here you started out wondering why someone like you has the attention of this extraordinary man. I’d say he’s lucky to have you.”

“For now maybe. He’s going to the big Children’s Hospital Gala with me. And there he’ll meet Victoria of course.”

“Are you worried about that?” Her eyes held Dr. Andrew’s for a moment. Everyone has a “tell.” As calm as he appeared on the outside over the subject of her mother, when he blinked hard while resettling his glasses, she knew that he was uncomfortable.

She sounded sad when she went on. “Yes, and the gala. The shallowness of it all...It’s a side of my life he’s not seen, and I’m not eager for him to experience it _and me_ in that setting. I wonder how much of him is attached to his image of me.”

 


	12. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's my next chappie! Thanks again for reading, the kudos and the great feedback. <3

 

Richard exited the elevator on the 9th floor of the ancient brownstone office building. Though the building itself was a rather dismal place, the office he’d entered was an entirely different matter. It utilized the natural brick on the wall behind the reception desk and the scarred old wood floor had been refinished, flaws and all that gave everything a charming appeal. The furnishings were more like furniture one would find in a home rather than traditional office furniture including the receptionist’s desk. With a comfortable looking sofa, a charming end table among the other equally comfortable seating, it was clear that space was designed to put a person at ease upon walking through the door. He supposed that made perfect sense considering the office space housed a not for profit organization devoted to mental health support. 

It was quiet, being the end of a regular working day. Apart from the woman behind the desk, it appeared that everyone else had gone home for the evening. _Why am I not surprised that Meredith is the last one here?_  

She’d spoken of her friend Erin on several occasions. They’d met at college, done most of their undergraduate work together and knowing that Erin was on her own financially, Meredith had helped her friend by getting her the internship at NAMI. To keep costs down, everyone who worked there took turns at the receptionist desk. Visually, Erin was quite different than Meredith. She had a riot of red curls that tumbled about her face, dressed in jeans that were ancient and tennis shoes that were equally well-loved. And even though she was currently engrossed in a paperback novel, she was a bit fidgety. Comparing Meredith to another woman of the same age was interesting. Even her friend Abby, who lived a more privileged lifestyle than the young lady in front of him, didn’t have the poise that Meredith possessed.

Judging by Erin’s facial expression, he guessed that she was reading a bodice ripper. Whatever it was she was reading, she must have been at a rather lurid point of the story because she had a difficult time pulling her eyes away from the page to look up. As much as he wanted to just allow her to keep reading but it would be strange to continue to stare at her. “Hello?” He interjected apologetically. “I was just wondering if you could tell me how to find Meredith Osborne?” 

He’d apparently startled her because she bobbled the book in her hands as she gasped. “Ohmigosh!” 

The receptionist had finally looked up at him after hastily placing her hand on the cover of her novel, but not before his original suspicions regarding genre were aptly confirmed. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to-”

“No no! My fault for...I was in La-la land there. You said you were looking for Meredith? You must be Rich...” He could practically see the wheels turning in her brain before her blue eyes widened and her face reddened. “Richard.”

He tried to bite down on his amusement as he grinned at her. “Yes, I’m Richard. And you must be Erin?” He politely offered his hand which she took.

A giggle escaped her. “Holy cow! You’re actually standing right there...” She pushed away from the desk as the next bit came out in a rush. “I mean, I would send you back but there was a meeting and it might not be done so I’ll just go get her now.” She was gone not 10 seconds before her head poked around the corner as a flood of words came tumbling out of her mouth. “Totally not doing my job. I forgot to ask you if you’d like something to drink. We have terrible coffee at the moment, or water.”

“No, Thank you. I'm all right.”

“There’s magazines and...seating…I can make tea?”

“Thank you, but the tea isn’t necessary.” 

Once he was able to reassure her that he didn’t find her inhospitable she disappeared once again. He didn’t know what compelled him to pick up the book, but he was careful to keep her bookmark in the spot she’d left it as he indulged himself a look at what had caught her attention. What he hadn’t expected was that the book belonged to Meredith. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meredith was at her computer trying to type out an e-mail with one hand, cursing every time she had to hit backspace when she heard Erin hiss, “I thought we were friends!”

Blinking as she stared up at Erin in confusion, “We are.”

“First, I thought you said you’d let me help you with those e-mails.” Erin stalked towards Meredith’s desk and planted her hands on the surface, leaning over her she added, “And I know you told me this morning you were seeing someone named Richard. However, when you said  ‘Richard will be in to meet me at the end of the day.’’ you somehow neglected to tell me that you meant _Richard Armitage._ Instead, sex-walking himself came into the reception area and asked for you and I could barely form a sentence.”

Humor lit up her face as she stood and blinked at Erin. “Would making you nervous ahead of time have helped the situation any?” 

“Well...no, but still…I’ll forgive you...maybe if I get to hug him.”

 Meredith giggled. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind hugging you, he’s huggable.”

 “Is he a good kisser?”

 “What do you think? And no, I’m not asking him to kiss you.”

Erin swatted Meredith’s shoulder.  “And I wouldn’t ask him either, brat! Well not knowing he’s with you anyhow.” As they came down the hall, she could see Richard looking at the book she’d put down. “Oh sonofa…he’s actually reading the book I’d just put down...here’s hoping he hasn’t turned to the page that I was...I’m going to die…I’m going to go hide now…” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _“She looked away until he joined her on the bed. He enfolded her, stroking the satiny slope of her spine. The shock of his nakedness was pleasant, and then intoxicating as his legs moved between hers and she felt the hard strength of his body virile body, the urgency of his desire. He kissed her everywhere, her lips, her breasts, caressing her from her fingers to her toes until she was clutching him, straining against him eagerly. She wound her legs around him, so anxious fo their the union that she unconsciously moved into position. The heat of his throbbing manhood was now pressed intimately against her sex._

 

 _Throbbing manhood?…_ Richard wondered what it was that inspired romance writers to use bad euphemistic terms in place of other common colloquialisms used to describe a man’s erection and a woman’s pubic area. Was there something particularly romantic about a _throbbing manhood?_

 

 

 

 

 

> _Tormented by his touch, she fought to catch her breath as he continued to kiss her._
> 
> _‘You’re more delicious to me than any cake,’ he murmured.”_

 

At that, Richard couldn’t stand to read another word. _You’re more delicious to me than cake? And the woman didn’t burst out laughing? How could he have said that with a straight face?_ For a moment, he imagined what doing the voice over for an audiobook adaptation of something like this would be like and he decided that there would be no way he’d be able to do that with a straight face. 

Meredith grinned broadly. “Good book?”

She’d been hoping to embarrass him but instead he glanced up from the page, his eyes glittering with amusement. “Well, I’m suddenly hungry for cake anyhow.” He heard Erin groan and resisted the urge to chuckle.

“It’s Meredith’s book anyhow.”

A smile spread across his face as he met Meredith’s gaze. “Oh, I’m well aware as I saw the bookplate in the front.” 

She felt the heat of her blush on her face. “Don't judge me.” The words came out quickly. 

Richard replaced the bookmark and set the book on the desk. “I didn't say a thing.”

Erin’s smile eased a bit as she chirped. “Yeah well, a single girl’s gotta have a little fun while they’re single especially when they're saving themselves for Richard Armitage. I mean there’s only so many times a person can read North and South, right?” 

Meredith froze as she caught the look on Richard’s face that vanished as quickly as it came. She doubted that Erin had noticed. But it was enough to make her heart sink. But he was entirely friendly with Erin as Meredith retrieved her coat until they left the office.

Once they were in the elevator, Richard, who hadn’t said a single thing to Meredith, had stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall before his unsettlingly sharp gaze cut to her face.

Meredith’s insides started to hurt in the heavy silence between them. “Richard…” She began to speak but didn’t know exactly what to say.

“Yes?” His jaw was tight, and his face was hard, making his voice tight.  

 _Fuck he’s angry…_ ”Please say something?”

“I’m not sure what to say exactly.”

“It’s not what it sounded like. That you’re some sort of notch in the proverbial bedpost for lack of a better term.”

“No, it wouldn’t be that considering I don’t doubt that you’ve only ever been with me. But what it did sound like I might be some sort of trophy to you.”

She gasped, “A trophy? You can’t be serious, you are the one who reached out to me.”

“Yes, but you would have had your travel plans in place to see the premiere in London.” As the elevator door opened, he exited with a purposeful stride, making it so that she had to practically run to keep up.

When he abruptly stopped and turned around, she almost ran into him so that he had to catch her shoulders. “I know you wouldn’t have been looking for money or gifts. I’m reasonably sure that you could buy yourself anything you could possibly want. And I’m the fool for falling for the act…for thinking, I meant something to you even if I was some nobody.”

She didn’t know what she could possibly say that would make this situation any better than it was. At this point, it was a question of moral character, and the fact that he’d believe the worst before he even asked for an explanation didn’t make for a good relationship. As tears spilled from her eyes, she was terrified that speaking at all would make her break down right there on the busy street.

“No...save the tears. They won’t work this time. Maybe you didn't intend for things to be this way, but it's about time you learned actions have consequences, sweetheart. I will not settle for being a starry-eyed young heiress’s plaything.”

That dagger struck a painful blow and she responded in kind, by slapping him across the face. “I wish I’d never met you. Go fuck yourself, Richard.”

 


	13. The Bucket List

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The saga continues... Though I felt that this one was a bit dull, however, necessary.

Meredith could undoubtedly confirm that she was head-over-heels in love with Richard. There was no other emotional pain in the world that matched the intensity of having a broken heart. Determined not to shed a single additional tear over Richard, she threw herself into her work and started to seriously look at graduate school programs. If she could make a decision quickly, she could be enrolled for the Spring semester and out of New York by the first part of January. It would remove the temptation of being in the same city as Richard Armitage. Because she was still in love with him and wanted nothing more than to belong to him. And that scared the hell out of her. _We'll add 'Get over Richard Armitage' to my bucket list, pronto._  

On the day of the Gala, Meredith was having lunch with Fr. Dave and Abby when she very animatedly announced. “I’m starting to understand my mother better.”

Abby gasped as the words came out of Meredith’s mouth. “You did not just say that, did you? Because I believe that hell just froze over.”

“I didn’t say I agreed with my mother. I said I understand her. Celibacy was so much easier. Maybe I could become a nun?” 

“Well, you’d have to work on your ‘resting bitch-face’ if you were going to do that. I mean I guess a lack of sex might explain a lot really.”

If Dave was shocked by the conversation at all, he didn’t let on that he was as he simply smirked and shook his head. Turning to Meredith, who was pushing her food around her plate with a fork rather than eating it, he gently asked, “Have you spoken to him at all?” 

“No. He left me a message for me to call him when I was ready. I’m afraid if I heard his voice I’d just want to be with him again.”

“Would it be so bad?” 

She felt the sting behind her eyes for just a moment before she checked the tears and said, “When I think of the look on his face and the way his voice sounded...I felt like a parasite…knowing how he truly felt about me, that he doesn’t fully trust me...I won’t apologize for who I am and I can’t change who I am. I’m better off alone that with the wrong man.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Wait a minute...you said what?”  Lee’s eyes widened. 

Richard had been incommunicado since Meredith had decided she’d rather throw him out on his arse than explain herself to him. What he hadn’t expected was for Brandon to show up at his flat that night with all of his belongings. It felt like a second slap in the face, though the first one was literal and, if he was honest with himself, well earned. But to be unwilling to even discuss things before simply ending the relationship was quite another thing, even if he was glad to not have to go back at the time. 

Like a good friend, Lee didn’t let up until Richard was willing to “stop sulking long enough to go have a few drinks and tell him what the hell happened.” But recounting the scene for his friend made him uneasy. While he’d felt entirely justified in his feelings, he was willing to admit that the way he had handled it could have been so much better. While his original goal wasn’t to end his mercurial relationship with Meredith, perhaps it was for the best for both of them.

“You actually said that to Meredith?” Lee’s voice broke him from his musings, “Did you kick a puppy for an encore?” When Richard frowned, Lee added, “Well no wonder she slapped you. What you said was baseless and mean. Your temper isn’t a secret to those who know you, but you’re not normally an asshole to people. And this is Meredith we’re talking about. She wraps presents for the needy. What you described paints her as spoiled, selfish and calculating. Do you honestly think she fits even one of those categories much less all of them combined?”

“No, I don’t think that. And no, I don’t believe she was deliberately deceptive, and I’m willing to accept that she might think she’s in love with me.  But she is a fan and I was foolish to even go there again in the first place. And let us not bring up the fact that I’m near twice her age. I don’t know what on earth I was thinking, to be honest.”

“So you’re questioning what exactly, the validity of _her_ feelings, or yours? Because sparks fly when you two are in a room together and I’m not the only one that’s noticed. She’s not some overly emotional fangirl, Rich. And we both know that you’re not some dirty old man and that it was something other than her age that attracted your attention. I know you’ve been burned before, and burned badly. But Meredith isn’t Kirst--”

“Don’t!” Richard’s face became an angry mask as his eyes frosted over. “If you dare go there, this conversation is finished. I’ve put that debacle behind me and I’d prefer it stay there.”

“Oh really? Then why do you approach every relationship with her in your head?”

“Because I’d be stupid not to learn from my mistakes?”

“More like dooming them from the get go, my friend.” Lee could tell Richard was annoyed, but he didn’t want to let up just yet. “I understand, believe me, I do. But pushing someone like Meredith away because you’re afraid of getting hurt is not the answer.” Before Richard could interrupt he held up his hand, “I’m not done. And it’s about time you heard what you need to hear rather than just what you want to hear, even if it pisses you off.”

Richard met Lee’s challenging gaze with a long sigh, “Alright, have your go at me then.”

“Meredith Osborne is friendly, warm and generous to a fault. And she genuinely cares about the people around her, including strangers. But she’s also one of the most guarded human beings I’ve ever met. And I take it from what you said earlier about her thinking she’s in love with you, she’s said as much?”

Richard paused, staring at his glass for a moment. “She did.”

“What about you?”

Richard knew that had been coming. Before he answered, he leaned his head back against the wall. “What about me? You want to know if I love her? I think you know the answer to that.”

“Yes, I do. But did you give her the words?”

“I did.” Richard snapped his answer out, not enjoying this conversation one bit. “I told her I loved her and I meant it. I still do, actually. As much as I’ve tried not to, I still love her. It’s not a word I toss around lightly.”

“So why do you think a woman with trust issues like Meredith would, as you put it, toss a word like that around lightly. Because, my friend, she demonstrated a level of confidence in you that you didn’t have the courtesy to return.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lee had been right, of course. Richard understood how stubborn he could be and he needed the ‘come to Jesus’ talk to snap him out of it.  He hadn’t actually given Meredith a chance, not if he wasn’t willing to trust her in the first place. That had been unfair to her. Then there was the matter of the look on her face before she turned around and walked out of his life without a backward glance. Lee was right, he'd deliberately pushed her away. He owed her an apology at the very least and hoped that he wouldn't make a complete fool of himself begging her to give him another chance when he was the last thing she needed in her life. He tried calling one last time, this one being the third attempt and decided to go to her house, finding it dark.

Out of nowhere an angry female voice announced the arrival of the fuming woman attached to it. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you not actually like her and were fishing for a reason to drop her on her ass the way you did?”

Richard’s brows rose as he turned his head in the direction of Abby as she cut a path through the snow blowing around her ankles, straight towards him. There was no question as to the intended recipient of her anger. “I beg your pardon?”

“Well you're an asshole but at least you're a classy one.”

Richard frowned down at his cell phone, racking his brain to figure out where she could have gotten off to. “What do you want, Abby? Besides a pound of flesh from me that is.”

“Well, you broke Meredith’s heart for starters. And secondly she never showed up for the gala last night. Nobody can find her and I thought maybe there would be someone home that could tell me where she went.”

Richard glanced at Abby from under his furrowed brows. “Have you tried calling her?” Upon hearing the woman’s frustrated hiss, he shook his head. “Right, stupid question. I thought maybe she was just avoiding me.”

“Oh well, she is. But you were the next person I planned to call since you might know where she went.” Abby blew into her hands as Richard produced the key he still possessed. “You still have a key?”

“Yes, I was coming by to return it.” He had other motives that he was not interested in sharing with the angry woman in front of him. “I don’t know that I should use it. Have you called Brandon?”

Abby’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Oh golly, I didn’t even think to do that. Just use the fucking key, Armitage. If it pisses someone off, I’ll take the heat.”

“Look we’ve established that you hate me. If I promise not to assume otherwise can retract the claws?” He opened the door and unable to help himself he held it for Abby, gesturing politely.

Abby keyed in the security code and looked around. The house was dead silent. “Mere?” When Richard paused to remove his shoes, she glared, “Come on! There’s no time for that...Meredith?”

They spread out and searched every single room of the house finding no evidence that Meredith had been there in the past 24 hours. Her gala dress was hanging on the closet door covered in the protective plastic bag with the knot at the bottom. Her shoes were unworn as well.

Abby dashed into the room and focused on the place where Richard was staring. “She’d disappeared before the party. I saw her at lunch yesterday. There was no indication of...oh God, what if she--” Abby pressed her hands to her mouth as panic started to color her face.

“You don’t think something’s happened to her, do you?”

“No, I think _you_ happened to her."

“Surely she wouldn’t…” Richard hadn’t thought of that possibility. “I’m not worth all of that.”

Abby’s eyes flashed with anger. “No, of course not, she’s only been in love with you for longer than I’ve known her.”

“She was in love with an image, not me. The man she thought I was doesn’t exist, Abby.”

Abby snorted. “Believe me, she's aware but not for the reasons you're thinking. She told me what Erin had said and that you took it personally. But do you actually think she played you so that she could fulfill some bucket list? Like, See the Pyramids of Giza, go skydiving, bump uglies with Richard Armitage? If you actually bothered to know Meredith, you’d know that’s not her. She wanted to save herself for the right man. That was important. Your name came up to convey to people that she had extremely high standards. You should be flattered, not insulted.”

“What are you two doing yelling at each other in my bedroom?”

 


	14. The right thing to do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to be better about posting. I hope this meets expectations <3

Meredith returned home from what had turned out to be the longest day ever. She’d been in the process of dropping Fr. Dave off at the church rectory when he’d received the call informing him that his father had a heart attack. Dave, being the man he was, told her to just drop him off, he knew she had plans. She honestly had not been looking forward to the gala, not when she didn’t have a date and she was too raw to be sure she could handle her mother’s interrogation as to why that was.

Turning to Dave she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Like hell I will.”

Dave shook his head, “Meredith…it isn’t necessary.” Even as she was getting out of the car with him he was trying to convince her he’d be fine.

Turning to him with a frown she sighed. “When have I ever struck you as someone who would rather go to a formal party than to be there for a friend? You can win the next argument but I’m winning this one.”

She’d been with him ever since. 24 hours, 3 heart attacks, 1 cardiac arrest and an endless wait for his dad’s eyes to open later. Meredith was at the nurse’s station when Christian, Dave’s brother arrived. A professor history at the University of Toronto, he had to move heaven and earth to become available and Meredith herself had chartered a flight to get Dave to town as soon as possible when things were at their worst. “I don't know what I’d do without a friend like you, Meredith. You’re generous beyond compare.”

“The same could be said about you, Dave. I just happen to have more money than I need.”

Just having turned 30, Chris was a year and a half younger than Dave and had definitely been cut from the same genetic cloth as his brother, appearance wise. Both men were attractive, with carelessly wavy, dark hair and bottle- green eyes that always seemed to smile at you. But that’s where the resemblance stopped. If Dave was the angel on your shoulder, Chris was the devil. Dave and his dad had many stories of the trouble he’d get into with the nuns at school. But deep down, Chris was a loving son and a good brother. It took both men to badger her into going home for some sleep with the promise that they would let her know if anything changed.

She hadn’t expected to be able to open her front door so quickly and palmed her pepper spray as she checked things out. Brandon, who had the evening off would have killed her for entering the dark house under those circumstances. Hearing the unmistakable voices of Abby and Richard roaring at each other from upstairs she put it away and headed in their direction. She caught the last bit of what Abby was screaming at Richard.

_“…do you actually think she played you so that she could fulfill some bucket list? Like, See the Pyramids of Giza, go skydiving, bump uglies with Richard Armitage? If you actually bothered to know Meredith, you’d know that’s not her. She wanted to save herself for the right man. That was important. Your name came up to convey to people that she had extremely high standards. You should be flattered, not insulted.”_

_Bump uglies with Richard Armitage??_ She was sure that she would have found that hysterical given the look on Richard’s face when the words poured from her friend’s mouth. But the fact that Richard was standing exactly where he had stood the very first time he kissed her took the humor out of the moment. Instead, just looking at him burned a hole in her heart. “What are you two doing yelling at each other in my bedroom?”

A single breath later she was swept into a crushing hug while Abby frantically admonished her. “Mere! Where the hell have you been? Everyone’s worried sick about you! When you didn’t show up at the gala and then no one could get ahold of you we thought...”

Meredith stepped back and stared at Abby. “You thought what?” Her voice had taken on a bitter edge as she folded her arms in front of her. “That I’d killed myself?”

“Well since you and he…and you were…” Abby looked chagrined as she shrugged.

“Abby jumped to conclusions.” Richard interjected.

Abby glowered at Richard. “You thought so too for a second there. And you could have at least called.”

“Really guys? Fr. Dave’s Dad had a heart attack. I stayed with him until his brother could get here. The hospital has terrible reception and the battery has been dead for hours. I’m sorry I worried you Abs.” Meredith’s amber gaze cut to Richard, “Still doesn’t exactly explain why you’re here though.”

To her credit, Meredith had the maturity to keep her voice mild and her tone polite, but her eyes still damned him for his baseless accusations. Richard’s hope of reversing the damage he’d caused to their relationship waned. “I was…I was returning your key.” Coward…He thought as he ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it up. On a sigh he added. “And honestly, I was hoping we could talk.”

 

 

 

Meredith had excused herself to go have a shower before she faced him. Firstly, she felt rough from sleep deprivation and from having worn the same clothes for that long. Secondly, she needed to collect herself as Richard’s arrival had been unexpected, and before she felt she was ready to face him. Meredith toweled off having kept her hair dry to save time and bundled herself into an oversized college sweatshirt and leggings before joining Richard, who was waiting for her downstairs. He had started a fire and a pot of tea was sitting on the coffee table. “I took the liberty. I hope that was alright.”

She nodded, “It’s fine.” The swell of emotion that washed over her at seeing Richard standing in her living room just as he’d done a few days ago nearly knocked her over. _I can’t do this!_

He shifted his gaze to her hand as she accepted the cup from him. Richard noted that her cast was off and while it was wrapped in one of those neoprene bands, he saw that she had some use of her hand. “How does it feel?”

The concern in his voice wasn’t lost on her and a bitter sweet smile ghosted her lips, gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Better than before. But I can be trusted to shower alone at least. Whether or not I can be trusted to slice bread is another story.”

The remark sparked a little humor in Richard’s eyes. “I’m glad.”

She decided she needed to sit regardless of whether or not Richard was inclined to do the same. After an uncomfortable silence Meredith had to get something off of her chest. “Richard, I’m so sorry I slapped you the other day I—“

Shaking his head, he cut her off, “Please, don’t apologize for that. I owe you an apology. What I said to you was…”He turned to look at her perched on the edge of the sofa, gazing up at him through her purple framed glasses. Her hair, which had been pinned up was rebelling against whatever had been holding it secure, falling in soft waves around her young face and she she looked sweet and lovely. His heart ached as shame burned in his chest. "Meredith...Christ this is harder than I expected it to be.” He was aware that her trust would be not so readily given again. He started to pace, “Well, it was vile and I’m the one who is sorry.” He hated even thinking about the exchange.

 

_I will not settle for being a starry-eyed young heiress’s play thing_

 

She could still see Richard’s anger contorted face while the words had cut her to ribbons. He might be sorry now, but she had no doubt that he’d meant what he had said at the time. How could she ever look at him again and not relive that moment? She’d taken so much for granted as far as his acceptance of her at that point. But it was difficult to shake the feeling that she never quite measured up. “Why did you say it? And, if you believed any of it, even for a second, why are you here now?”

“For the record, I don’t think you’re capable of any of the things I’d said or implied. And it’s…it’s complicated…not why I'm here, that part…my feelings for you should be obvious.”

“Everything about our relationship screams complications and nothing has ever been obvious. I might have assumed it was.” God! She never wanted to believe that Richard truly loved her more than she did just then. But deep down he still looked at her as less-than for being young and privileged, neither of which were things she could change, even if she wanted to. She shook her head. “You don't have faith in me. At every turn you’ve pointed to our differences and challenged my feeling, motivations and intentions. And while you might like me, and want to be around me, and care about me, that’s a _friendship_ , Richard. It isn't a solid foundation for a serious relationship. I think you’re projecting your own doubts onto me and that you actually meant the word _friend_ the way I felt that you did that night.”

“Don’t you dare presume to tell me how I feel!” Anger built on panic and regret came and reared its ugly head as Richard growled, “What do you know about relationships? You’re 23 years old!” It was like thunder had clapped as Richard’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not the only one who lacks faith in what we had here. I shouldn’t have said what I did. But you didn’t even give me a chance to apologize. You didn’t answer my calls or texts. You just shut me out! If you were ever really invested in…us…why did you cast me aside so damn quickly like the rest of the men you never saw fit give a chance? _High standards?_ I guess I would be more flattered by the fact that it was based on me somehow except that I don't measure up to them either. You might have loved the man you thought I was, but in reality, I'm not that man.”

That one hit its mark, and she felt as though she were bleeding out. Was he right? _Did she never give him a proper chance?_ She dropped her gaze. “That isn't fair.”

"Well I don't particularly feel like being fair. I'm sorry, Meredith, that I didn't live up to your expectations.” Hurt, angry and confused, he had wanted to hurt her and he despised himself for it. Picking up his coat, he shrugged his way into it. “This isn’t solving anything. I think I should go.”

Panic welled up inside of her. Richard was about to walk out of her life and never come back. “S-so you’re just going to leave.”

The heartbreak he caused her, and that he shared could be heard in her voice. He loved her as he'd never loved anyone else and because of that he paused in the doorway before he said. “I think, given the circumstances, that would be for the best.” And then without so much as a backward glance he shut the door behind him.


	15. All is fair in love and war

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our favorite dysfunctional couple is at it again for another chapter :) This time I upped the giggle factor.

As the door shut with a decidedly firm thud, all she could do for about a dozen heart beats was blink and stare. Richard had just walked out of her life, and he didn’t strike her as the type to keep coming back. _Why would he want to come back to the wealth of emotional baggage that came with me anyhow?_

Did she push men away? Had she actually pushed Richard away? Not exactly, he did some pushing as well. But at that moment she needed to consider her part in this mess. She hadn’t exactly shown him that she was invested in their relationship beyond the physical. As insecure as he’d made her feel, it hadn't occurred to her that she was making him equally insecure about her. It was simply out of Meredith’s realm of possibility. But there it was plain as the nose on her face. _How can I be so stupid? Is it too late to turn back the clock? Can I really afford to sit here and wonder about it?_

"Ugh!" She groaned as she shoved her feet into her winter boots and tossed on a coat. She was still struggling with the sleeves when she dashed out into the cold, December air. He couldn't have gone far. He didn't live that far away. Except I don't know where he lives. Looking around she couldn't see through the snowfall that announced the arrival of the predicted snow storm. Spotting the footprints leading away from her house she took off running in that direction.

It wasn't terribly long before she spotted him ahead of her. “Richard!”

His long legged stride wasn't helping, neither was the way his coat collar was pulled up, shielding him from the wind. She stopped and shook her head. _Great, Meredith, you've officially become a stalker._ But she chased him anyhow.

She chased him about three blocks and her lungs were burning from the cold air. He was stopped at a street corner waiting for traffic to clear when she called out to him again. Again it was to no avail and she desperately wanted to stop him from crossing the road, because she’d lose ground if the traffic signal kept her back when she arrived. _Think Meredith!_

She suddenly stopped running, knowing that she didn’t have much time left and her voice wasn’t likely to carry at that distance. Sweeping her right hand across a hedge row, she gathered a handful of snow. Careful not to strain her bad hand, she hastily formed what had to be about the ugliest, least arrow-dynamic snowball in history. _I’ve officially lost my marbles_. Her heart pounded as she took aim. _I can't believe I'm going to do this…_

Richard impatiently waited for the traffic to clear. All he wanted to do is get home, take a hot shower, put on his pajamas and pray that something on the television would distract him until he passed out from exhaustion. And if that didn't work, alcohol might be involved, which at his age meant a morning hangover. _Anything but spending another moment thinking about her._

Something clipped the edge of his shoulder, hitting the metal sign post with a _**thwaang**_. Startled he jumped, turning his head. “What the devil...”

She came to a skittering stop on the slippery sidewalk as he turned and discovered her standing there. She had absolutely no idea how he would react and suddenly she was about as nervous as she could get. _Honestly, what was I thinking?_

He was legitimately surprised to see Meredith standing there with a guilty expression on her face. Of all the things he expected, he hadn't expected her to come after him and certainly hadn't anticipated that she would throw a snowball at him. “What are you doing?” A confused scowl formed on his face.

 _Dammit he's pissed off at me._ Trying to appear as nonchalant as she could she shrugged. “Getting your attention.”

“Well, you have it.” His eyebrows rose but otherwise his expression was unreadable.

Her anxiety was building and the feeling that she was too late to make this better was adding to it. There was so much she wanted to tell him, so many things she felt. She'd never loved anyone as much as she loved Richard and it was definitely not his image she was in love with. She loved the frowning, broody, surly man standing in front of her. She was not used to verbalizing her emotions and wasn't sure if he'd even be receptive at this point. The fact that he'd actually told her that he loved her was so unbelievable that she wasn't overly certain she hadn't imagined it. _Lord help me I'm so out of my element._  
  
“Well, out with it.” Impatience, annoyance and resignation could be heard in his tone, “There's a bit of a blizzard going on tonight. I would prefer not to be out in it.” Richard stuffed his hands in his pockets and kicked a bit at the fluffy snow that was at least three inches deep.

“Then come back and let's talk.”

“To what end, Meredith? I think we've both said quite enough to each other.” He sounded weary as he shook his head. “I don’t want to keep hurting you. I think it would be prudent on both of our parts to wait until tomorrow to sort this out.”

“I don't want to leave things between us like this.” Within his hesitance was the sting of imminent rejection, something she was all too familiar with. “Not when I know you well enough to know that you want to just go home and forget about me altogether." His surprise was reflected in his eyes as was his inadvertent admission of guilt. "Look, I whole-heartedly admit that the fact that I'm terrified of the feelings I have for you is a problem. But I also know you never were comfortable with the fact that you had feelings for me, and that is a problem too. Or did I just imagine that you ever had feelings for me?"

The defeated tone in her voice twisted his stomach. He was starting to believe that she was far better off without him. But he didn’t know if he had the strength to walk away from her a second time. Regardless, there would be no getting her out of his head that night. _Try that again, old man, getting over her would take longer than you have._ His shoulders slumped as gaze wandered a bit. “To be fair, I put you on the spot earlier and I think you need time to sort out exactly what it is you want from me. And the past couple of weeks I shouldn't have rushed into something you weren't ready for. I think maybe the unusual circumstances you might have mistaken your feelings of gratitude with lo—OOF!” The snowball she hurled hit him square in the shoulder. “What the…”

Her tone rang with her own indignation. “What was it that you said? Oh right it was ‘Don't presume to tell me how I feel!’”

“For fuck’s sake!” He glowered at her as she gathered more snow. “Stop it already.”

“No.” She continued to ball up the handful of snow. “We’ll settle this with a snowball fight since what we've been doing for the past hour isn't working and isn’t fun. We only-23- year-olds need fun, though I suspect that you might need that more than I do.”

“I don't know what it is you're hoping to accomplish with this display of immaturity…” She was readying herself for the pitch, and he briefly noted that she looked like she knew what she was doing. “Put that down or so help me I’ll…” He managed to dodge that time.

“You’ll what? Get angry at me? Scold me like a child? Call me reckless? Abby would laugh in your face if she heard that actually. Then again she's only been around for the highlights of our relationship in which reckless has been a recurring theme behind the scenes. And that's not all on me Mr. Age-is-a-number in all of his interviews. Or was that all bravado for the fans?”

Leveling his gaze at her he couldn't help but notice how lovely she was. Her face was flushed from the cold and likely from the exertion of catching up with him as well. Under the street lamps he could see her eyes glitter with a mixture of temper and mischief as she stood there. She certainly knew how to press his buttons.

Suddenly he bent, grabbing a hand full of snow. With a low voice he simply said, “Have it your way then.”

 _Oh shit!_ His sudden mood shift had caught her off guard. She backed up as advanced on her with deliberate intent. With a flick of his wrist he tossed his loosely packed weapon so that it clipped the top of her head without hurting her but covered her face in snow. It was a trick he learned as a boy and her resulting gasp of outrage garnered an unexpected level of satisfaction under the circumstances.

It was his turn to retreat and he made his escape across the road at the traffic light. The impromptu cease fire gave them both time to arm themselves before she could join him. For the next several minutes there was a barrage of snowy missiles in the air as the two of them they made their way to a small park nestled between some attractive apartment buildings. The air was filled with laughter, and ridiculous insults. When he landed a solid hit in the dead center of her chest, much harder than he’d intended, it knocked her flat onto her back in the snow.

“Oh god are you alright?” He practically vaulted over a park bench to get to her. His heart sank when he discovered that her eyes were closed and she wasn't moving. “Meredith!” He knelt in the snow and leaned over her, holding his breath until he saw that she was breathing.

Her eyes fluttered open as a rather breathless, “I’m fine.” emerged from her. “Just knocked the wind out of me. The snow cushioned my fall.” She plucked her glasses from their askew position on her face.

“I am so sorry.” He said, sliding his arm around her shoulders to help her to a seated position. She was giggling which caused him to grin back. He had to admit that he hadn’t had that much fun in a while. “Are you sure you’re alright?”.

She turned her head to look at him when she laughingly said. “No harm done. All’s fair in love and war.” His face was closer to hers than she anticipated. When she realized what she said, she lost her smile.

His voice reflected the abrupt change in atmosphere. “So which one is it? Love or war?” For the first time he realized that until that point they’d only been playing around at the idea of a relationship with each other. It felt as if it were an experiment between two characters in a story compared to the depth of the emotions he was experiencing as he held her. There was that proverbial free-fall feeling taking hold of him as he waited for her answer.

His eyes, which had danced with their shared laughter a moment before were pinning her to the spot with an intensity that she’d only ever witnessed on the big screen. But this wasn’t a movie, this was the real thing. They weren’t people merely flirting over Twitter. _So this is what it’s like to have HIM look at ME this way._ She know she didn't imagne the tightening of his arm as it circled her. The air between them hung with tension so thick that she was aware of nothing else at that moment other than Richard. She loved him so ardently it was impossible for her to see a life that existed beyond it. Love was incredible and horrible and everything in between. That emotional torment had driven her to do desperate things, abandoning her pride to prevent him from leaving. And though she knew she was cold and wet, she would have gladly frozen to death if it were the only way she could be with him. Meredith murmured her answer in a single word that summed everything that led them to this place perfectly. “Madness.”

 


	16. I See You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know it's been forever. But as I've promised, I haven't abandoned the stories I'm writing. Thank you for reading and your support! Feel free to let me know how I'm doing.

_Madness indeed…_ Richard grumbled inwardly as he reached for a second wine glass. The day had been anything but predictable and definitely exhausting. But mostly his head throbbed as he tried to wrap his brain around the series of events that had led him to this place. To say things were complicated would be the understatement of the century. It was a good thing he did have to share the bottle because earlier he’d been compelled to drink the entire thing alone. Never mind the fact that he would be sharing it with the very object of his current frustration.

 _Well, I couldn’t very well turn Meredith away, could I?_ She’d been soaked to the bone and shivering by the time he’d led her up the stairwell to his flat. By then, the snow was coming down so hard that he insisted that she spend the night. There was no way he was going to let her go back out in that. He also tried to get her to agree to go to bed, and that they’d talk in the morning. But she was having none of that. He had to admit he was glad. He was fairly confident that they could resolve their differences enough to remain friends.

_It would be better if it did._

He had to admit, that while that would be better than losing her entirely, that thought was instantly depressing. It was a thought process he’d been battling all week and had all but discarded the notion by the time he’d been lectured by his best friend, scorched by Abby’s tongue and the overwhelmed by momentary panic over the mere thought that something had happened to Meredith. Suffice it to say that he might not have been in the best frame of mind by the time he did have a chance to talk to her. Surely that had some hand in the way he’d mishandled things. _Mishandled…interesting way to put the fact that I’d meant to simply apologize and instead blew the whole thing to hell before storming out._ And all because she hadn’t been immediately ready to take him back. But honestly, could he blame her?

 The answer to that was a big fat _NO!_ As much it pained him to admit, he hadn’t taken their relationship seriously. Not because he didn’t love her. As surprising as that aspect was to him, he wouldn’t have said it if it weren’t true. But she hadn’t had a relationship with anyone that had lasted more than a handful of dates. He was so jaded that he began to doubt very much that he could ever be the man she needed him to be. He certainly couldn’t be the man she’d imagined he was. Eventually, she’d figure that out. She didn’t need an old man to hold her back from experiencing her 20s the way she should.

And as much as he’d thought he was prepared for her to move on at some point, when she appeared in her bedroom doorway during his argument with Abby, the very idea of losing her was a knife twist through the heart as he’d never experienced before. Instead of being properly contrite, he lashed out at her instead. It was a quick decision born of desperation that he’d walked out with the intention of putting as much distance between. It was a badly executed, feeble attempt at damage control. Leaving the ball was in her court was the least that he owed her. And if he never saw her again, it would be no less than he deserved.

 

 

Dry and warm, Meredith was dressed in the soft, button-down, flannel shirt that Richard had handed her. She had no idea he even owned something like that. But there was so much about Richard she didn’t know yet. She’d decided that if he was going to see her as anything other than the sum total of her trips around the sun, she had to put it all out there. After all, she’d never had a problem speaking her mind with any other men. _Of course, none of them really mattered and Richard does._

But she’d instinctually knew that she’d need to show him how she felt, in a very big way, even if that meant ultimately losing him. The fear of that was tangible every time she went there in her mind. Ultimately that was why she’d chased him down and started pelting him with snowballs. _How mature and romantic of me…_ she thought derisively. This was a longshot at best, and Meredith tried to resolve herself to the idea that he’d waited this long for the right woman to come into his life. _The odds are that woman isn’t me._ Though she believed that he loved her, for now, and she intended to make the most of it for as long as he’d let her.

But as she came around the corner she saw that he was frowning so darkly while he opened the bottle of wine that she actually backed up. Mentally she gave herself a kick in the ass. _This isn’t exactly the best time to lose your nerve now, Mere…Show him it’s not over for you!_ Taking a cleansing breath for courage first, she approached and deliberately leaned against the counter so that she invaded his personal space. “You don’t have to share that with me if you don’t want to.” She hoped like hell that she sounded more confident than she felt. 

When the corner of his mouth twitched a little, confident or not, she knew she’d succeeded in breaking the ice. “Humor me, if only to assuage my guilt over flattening you in the snow.” Long fingers slid one of the glasses towards her.  

“Thank you, but I knew the risks when I started it.” She made one attempt to hop up onto the counter realizing that she couldn’t really use her left hand yet. “Shit.”

“Let’s not rip apart the good surgeon’s work so soon.” He lifted his knee for her to step up on, as he caught her waist, helping her take a seat in front of him. “Though there is a stool right there if you need to sit down.”

“Don’t be a spoil-sport. Besides, we need to talk and I want to be at eye level.”

“Fair enough.” He handed her the glass and watched her take a sip without breaking eye contact. It was a little unsettling to him.

“Thanks for sharing this.” She smiled a little shyly. “Even if it was only because you have an unwanted houseguest for the night.”

He backed up to the counter across from her, leaning against it. His voice was mild as he crossed his arms in front of him. “Regardless of what you may think, it's never been a question of my wanting you around.”

She let out a sigh of pure annoyance. “I don't know that I believe you.”

He was only slightly irritated by the inference that he was lying to her. But he couldn't exactly blame her for feeling that way. “I know you don't. There _is_ a reason I'm remarkably unattached in my mid-forties.” 

“Oh, I’d bet there are several. But not all of them are relevant to our relationship.” She expected the surprise on his face when she added, “But since you’re not generally an asshole, I’d wager you’re still friends with a good share of your former lovers.”

 _Ouch…_ When he narrowed his eyes at her, she added, “What? Tell me I’m wrong.”

“It’s not as if there were _that_ many of them, to begin with.” Maybe it wasn’t meant to be a passive aggressive remark but he couldn’t resist the temptation to give a little bit back. “And, you’re not the first woman to slap me. But yes, it seems to work out that way.”

  _O_ _h, you…_ Meredith felt her face grow hot. “Ugh, not something I'm proud of.” When his eyes crinkled at the corners, she knew he was making fun of her. As embarrassing as it was, this was steadier ground for her.

“In fairness, I’d earned it after what I’d said. Though I admit I was shocked that you’d done it.” He scratched at his jaw as he added, “I'm even more shocked that you're here now after my equally terrible apology.”

She crossed one leg over the other, using her glass of wine as a stalling tactic as she tried to muster the courage to lay it all out there. “Maybe I wanted to play in the snow.”

“I'm being serious, Meredith. I want to know why you came.” His voice hadn't been harsh at all but his facial expression suggested that he was dead serious. Another side step would irritate him.

“I know you think I look at you through rose-colored lenses. But I see you better than you might think.”

He took his time refilling their wine glasses before he cast a sidelong glance at her. “I have my doubts about that.”

“I know you do. But I also know that in a relationship you hold your cards close to your chest, lovely as it is. And people call _me_ closed off. I'm pretty sure you could give me lessons in that department.” His brows rose a fraction there but he seemed to sense that she wasn’t finished. She drew a long breath and knew that the next part would either be really good or really bad. “You trust friendship in a way you don’t trust deeper relationships. Though you obviously want more. I don't believe you would have slept with me otherwise. Still, you never expected things to last between us, did you?” His eyes cut to hers with an expression that suggested he was a bit startled by her frank revelation. _Oh boy did I get your attention, didn’t I?_

The silence between them was deafening as he mentally digested her words. His expression challenged her though his voice was light. “It seems that I'm not the only one in this room who plays their cards closely to their chest. Though arguably yours is lovelier.”

She raised her glass, nodding, “Touché. So we’re more alike than you’d imagined I’d bet?”

“You still haven't explained why you came. And based on what you see, I'm even more surprised that you did.”

Setting her wine glass down she put her hands up, palms facing him. “Do you forget who you’re talking to? _You_ didn’t judge _me_ when you had every reason to, remember?”

She watched his gaze find the scars as he straightened away from the counter and stepped closer. Long fingers circled her wrists as his thumbs gently grazed the silvery, white lines that remained.

She waited until his gaze returned to her's before she continued. "My scars just happen to be more obvious than yours. So you see, I’m not in love with a fantasy, I’m in love with _you_.”

 

 


	17. Old Fashioned Notions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good gravy I'm slow at this these days. I promise I haven't forgotten. Thank you for your patience. <3

Anxiety. Meredith’s pulse quickened as the silence hovered thickly between them. _Oh god, what did I just do?_ A stab of fear lanced through her over the brevity of her actions that evening. This was another one of those defining moments in her relatively short life. She’d spent half of it in love with Richard Armitage, or rather the idea of him. But the man standing before her with the thunderstruck expression on his face was not some romantic character in some BBC production, but a flesh and blood man. And she’d just bared her soul to him, professed her undying love to him. She’d said she loved him before, and meant it. But this was something else entirely. And judging by the atmosphere in the room, he knew it. She just gave him the power to smash her heart to pieces, also effectively ruining any further attempts to use "the fantasy" as her refuge. _Shit just got real…_ There was no going back.

Silence. Under normal circumstances, Meredith wouldn't complain about the amount of time she got to unapologetically stare at someone so handsome it was was borderline painful. Add the part where she had his undivided attention as she was pinned to the spot by his unsettlingly direct gaze. _Thud…thud…thud…_ the beating of her heart was so strong that she wondered if he could see her vibrating.

Magnetism. And there it was, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just his looks. Just to be in the same room with him was an all consuming experience. Richard had a demeanor, a commanding presence that filled whatever area he occupied. Such intensity and passion along with an infamous mercurial demeanor were a potent combination. He excited people, captivated them and definitely made them nervous. Meredith wouldn’t have him any other way. Now, the question was…would _he_ have _her_?

Doubt. The amount of time that had passed since the last time she’d spoken, in all reality, hadn’t been long. But it wasn’t like Richard to be completely speechless. Likely, he was choosing his words carefully. Confidence was failing as she considered all possible outcomes. _He’s looking for a way to let me down gently…_ Her heart sank. She cringed inwardly trying not to replay the events of the evening in her mind. It was too late to regret her actions. He deserved to know the truth about how she felt even if he didn’t return those feelings. She couldn’t shake the shame she felt over presuming she would be any different Or better than the other women he had relationships with. She was young, plain, and as her mother put it, boring. _It was foolish to think that of all the women on earth, he waited so long so that he could ultimately choose me._

But then his graceful fingers tightened around her wrists. The pressure of having them there lent a small bit of comfort. And while in all practicality that gesture seemed insignificant, the fact that he didn’t simply pull away sparked a tiny flame within her lending a small amount of warmth and light in the rather dim circumstances.

Not prone to create awkward silences, this one made up for several. It was his turn to speak, yet he was momentarily tongue-tied. He could feel her pulse fluttering rapidly under his fingers like a terrified sparrow as she stared back at him with her bright, amber eyes. The apprehension in them was a testament to just how difficult it was for her to lay it all out there like this. _Not apprehension, Richard. More like panic. She just let you into a place that literally no one else is allowed._ She was not the type of girl who told every man she kissed that she loved him. He also knew that it was rare that she said those words to anyone. Of all the men in the world she could have trusted with her heart, she chose him. And by the look in her eyes, she didn’t know what to expect from him in return. _Foolish girl, wasting your sweetness and your love on a cranky old bastard like me._

“Please say something.” Her shaky whisper, broke through his thoughts.

Her velvety lashes swept downward attempting to hide the fact that she was breaking her own heart in the length of time he took to respond. If she only knew that he was simply trying to find the right words to describe the nearly violent waves of emotion that came crashing over him. Meredith had just given him the most beautiful gift imaginable and deserved no less from him. In her most vulnerable of moments he wanted to give her what she needed of him. _It’s not the time to be overthinking this. The simple, god’s honest truth will be enough._ Rather abruptly, Richard let go of her wrists to place his hands on the sides of her face. And when her lashes swept up and their eyes met, it felt as if his heart would explode if he didn’t let her know what she meant to him. “I love you, Meredith.”

 _Oh my god!_ If she’d been standing, she would have fallen to the floor. She didn’t know what had been more thrilling, the words or the near ferocity with which he'd said them. She wasn’t given much time to think about it as Richard gathered her close and crushed her mouth with his. There was no preamble to this deep, hot and powerful kiss. Fireworks went off in her head and the little tugs at her hair from where he'd thrust his hands made her moan into his mouth.

His mouth branded her jaw and her neck with his lips driving her crazy with need. Feverishly needy, she didn't allow him to be distracted from her lips for long. His growl of agreement vibrated against her breasts. With every fiber of her being did she want to be close to him. She couldn’t touch him enough, feel his heat enough, she needed his skin against hers.

She certainly wasn’t shy with him tonight as she rather insistently started to remove his shirt... Far be it for him to complain as she purred with satisfaction, eyes lit with desire. Returning the favor, and not bothering with buttons, hers went over her head to the floor so that she was just in her knickers, jewelry and of course, her glasses. She wasted no time plastering herself to him, letting out a what sounded like a sigh of relief as her breasts came in contact with his bare chest. She contented herself by laying her head against him for several heartbeats. Of all the ardent declarations of love and desire, this was far more telling. It amazed him that such a simple thing could be so satisfying. That small respite ended with a jolt of pleasure that made his cock twitch and his body vibrate as her tongue flicked across his nipple.

With skillful ease, he had her glasses off and set aside a scant moment before their mutual urgency took control. He knew why she liked it when he tugged on her hair as he felt her fingers thrust through his own, insisting he come closer so that she could nip his chin. Her eyes dared him to give her all he had. _With pleasure…_ With greedy kisses, he ravished her until she was whimpering and trembling in his arms as they clung together for dear life. They couldn’t make up for the time they lost, but they were sure as hell going to give it their best effort. Slipping his hands inside her underwear, he grabbed her fantastic little bottom to pull her against him. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his hips and began to undulate against him. While it gave them a bit of pleasure, the pressure offered little to no relief.

"Hold on tight.” He said and she obediently locked her feet to get her and held him tightly before he carried her through his flat. Then she was tumbling backwards until she felt the soft mattress of Richard’s bed under her. He crawled over her propping himself up so that he wasn’t crushing her. 

Her heart jumped at the intensity of his gaze. No one had ever looked at her the way Richard was looking at her at that moment. Gently, he brushed the hair from her face and is voice rumbled, “Forgive me?”

It was the uncertainty and the wealth of emotion in his voice that cast aside any possible doubt she might have had about him. A lump formed in her throat, that she tried to swallow down so that she could answer him properly. In the end, all she could do was nod at him.

Undone by the tears that glistened in her eyes he decided a little tenderness was in order. “Good tears or bad tears?” He asked before he panicked about it.

Her watery grin was his answer, but she clarified, “Good tears.”

Ghosting his hand down her arm, he held her hand to his lips, kissing her finger. “Good because I don’t know how I’ll live with myself if I make you cry again.” Playful kisses peppered her lips and chin until he came to the hollow of her throat. That was when he noticed which necklace she was wearing, as he was a bit distracted earlier. It wasn’t just any necklace, it was _his_ necklace.

She knew what he was looking at and smiled a bit sheepishly. “I never took it off. I couldn't. I think I knew that it would never be truly over for me.”

That was when he realized that he needed to stop. The last thing he wanted her to think was that he only wanted her for sex. His feelings ran far deeper than that, though his actions prior to that night had said otherwise, even before he’d spent the night in her bed. And even then, he’d given her the words and then betrayed her trust. She deserved more than words regardless of the unusual set of circumstances that lead to him practically moving in with her though they were virtually strangers. Rushing into bed, they’d skipped over all the things that truly cultivated a proper relationship, like dating and romance. And while she might have been the one to ask him to sleep with her, he was fully aware that he was her first. She’d been right, he hadn’t expected it to last, and the fact that he’d taken advantage of her offer anyhow shamed him.

He wasn’t going to make that mistake again. “Meredith, I…” He drew a shaky breath and with equally shaky hands, he sat up, scrubbing his face. “I’m sorry, I’m being presumptuous…”

 _Wait what_? With a combination of frustration and confusion tumbling around her mind she propped herself up on her elbows. “You’re joking, right? If it’s my permission you need, Richard I want this, I want you.”

His mind was clear, but his body hadn’t caught up with the sudden shift in mood. Picking up a blanket that hung over a side chair, he spread it over her. “I’m serious, Meredith.”

By the stricken look on her face he knew that he sounded more gruff than he might have felt. Moving to sit on the side of the bed, he turned to look at her. “No…don’t look at me like that. It’s not what you think…” Pressing his fingers to his eyes for a moment he muttered, “Fuck I’m terrible at this.”

Thoroughly confused as Richard seemed to be nervous, Meredith took a cleansing breath. Anxiety gave way to curiosity as Meredith took a moment to draw the blanket around herself, attempting to be demure under the circumstances, and to sit next to him on the edge of the bed.

He was thankful to have an opportunity to choose his next words more carefully. Casting her a side-long look, he saw that her eyes told him that she was aware that he’d needed that. “I do want you, you know that, right? But that’s not all I want. And I want to do things the right way this time around.” When she drew a breath to protest he placed a finger on her lips to stop her. “You deserve so much better than I gave you. I will not squander this opportunity to court you properly.”

When he felt her relax, he knew she understood. “Court me?” Her tone of voice was light with humor. “Rather old fashioned notion, isn't it?”

“Take the piss if you want.” A wry smile spread over his face. “But that’s the risk of attracting an old man. We can be a bit old fashioned when it comes to the opposite sex.”

Realizing that he was serious, she immediately felt terrible for poking at him. “Richard…I didn’t mean it that way.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners with humor. To her relief, he didn’t appear to be insulted. “I know that. But whether you wish to acknowledge it or not, I am an entire generation older than you.”

“It’s not as if I’m not aware of it, you know.” She glanced up at him through her lashes. “It just doesn't matter to me. It looks good on you anyhow."

“Then you won't mind indulging me, yeah?”


	18. Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard makes good on his promise and Meredith doesn't seem to mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it's been awhile. I hate writer's block. Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy!

“So, then what happened?” Abby cooed enthusiastically.

Meredith sat back on a long sigh of exasperation, glancing down at the woman doing her pedicure. Though the nail technician did a great job pretending casual disinterest, Mere would lay money on the fact that this woman could write a book on all the stories she’d heard about some rather prominent people’s juicy private lives. Though her own private life was not so frequently juicy, she was careful not to mention names. Yet, since she’d been spotted numerous times in public with Richard, she knew it would be a matter of time before people would figure out who it was she was talking about. Would she pay later for continuing this conversation today?

Abby was looking at her so expectantly that Mere decided that there was a reason this salon owner had every single one of her employees sign a non-disclosure contracts for that very reason. Meredith pulled a face, and with a voice that dripped with irony responded, “The worst…he kissed me senseless, tucked me into his bed and then slept on the sofa like a perfect gentleman.”

“Cockblocked…shit…” Abby’s sympathy came out on a long groan. Yet as she glanced over at her best friend she saw Meredith absently touching her pendant with a Mona Lisa smile on her face. “You can't bullshit me, deep down you’re eating it up.”

“You mean the _Ice Queen_ is a closet romantic? There’s a society page headline, for you.”

“Says the woman with more than her fair share of trashy romance novels in her collection.” Abby rolled her eyes, “Don't pretend you don't need it because I know you better than that. It’s about time someone gave you a little pampering, Mere.”

Meredith chewed on her lip for a moment as she contemplated Abby’s words. _What am I doing now if not being pampered?_ She thought as the scent of lemongrass wafted up from the foaming basin one of her feet soaked in while the other was being massaged. It was too bad that the way her mother brought her up a pedicure was considered a necessity, like teeth cleaning, rather than an indulgence. She didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as she probably should. “So, you’re not still mad at him, I take it?”

“If you’re happy, I’m happy. You know that. Though I kind of enjoyed yelling at him. He needed to be knocked off his high horse if you ask me.” Abby shook her head, unable to forget the look on his face when she had hit home with a few of her barbs that night. It was impossible to ignore the intensity in his eyes when Meredith had entered the room. It had been a tangible mixture of love, regret, relief. It had left her conflicted as she’d felt a bit bad for him in that moment while also wondering what it would be like to have a man look at her the same way Richard looked at her friend. Shaking herself from her own musings Abby changed the subject. “How’s Fr. Dave’s dad?”

“Much better! There was a point where we didn’t think he was going to make it, but that danger has passed. And he’ll be released by Christmas. I hired a nursing service to come and take care of him and to make sure that he’s able to stay at home. You know Dave will try to do it all himself.”

Abby’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I’m surprised Dave let you do that.’

“Dave doesn’t know it’s me. Chris does. He told Dave that it’s part of a life insurance policy that their dad had in the event something would happen.” She shrugged, “I know what you’re thinking but I can’t bring myself to lie directly to Dave and you know what he’s like.”

Abby smirked as she nodded, “Yes, because there’s a reason you two are such good friends. Stubborn and terrible at accepting help.”

“Hey, I’m getting better. Chris has offered to help with the Christmas party while he’s in town and I delegated a task to him. He’s getting the groceries.”

Abby snorted inelegantly. “Wait, Chris is going to be at the party?”

“Yeah, why?”

Abby rolled her eyes. “You’re so clueless sometimes. Chris has a crush on you.”

“For fuck’s sake, no he doesn’t.” Meredith chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Wait, you really think he does?”

“It almost makes me wish I were in town for the party since he’ll be in the same room with Richard, who is bound to notice even if you don’t. Can’t imagine what a jealous Richard is like.”

Meredith couldn't picture it. “Honestly, of all the insecurities that Richard might have about our relationship, I doubt jealousy will factor in. He doesn’t strike me as the type. Not that he has anything to actually worry about.”

“Of course, he doesn’t. But if jealousy were a rational thing, no one would choose to experience it, would they? It wouldn’t be the first-time Richard’s lost his mind over you.”

Abby had a point but she refused to worry about it. "Wow…how did I become the less jaded one?”

“I’m not jaded, I’m practical.”

 

 

 

Greta opened the door for Richard on her way home for the night. If she held any malice towards him for their relationship hiccups of the week prior, she didn’t let on. Her smile was warm and bright as always. “Hello! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? Come on in, Mere’s just now finished getting ready. Mind your feet on my clean floor.”

Richard couldn’t help but grin at the woman who mothered him much like his own did, while he dutifully stepped inside and wiped his feet on the mat. “I wouldn’t dare mess up your floor.”

“Definitely a keeper then.” The woman chuckled as she glanced down at the little pot of yellow flowers in Richard’s hands, that he’d been rather sheepishly trying to conceal. “What’s this?”

Richard felt his face grow warm as he was feeling uncharacteristically uncertain about the romantic gesture. What did a man get a woman who could literally buy herself anything she could ever possibly want? “She told me once that she didn’t like watching cut flowers die.”

Meredith was at the top of the stairs when she’d heard Richard’s explanation. _Did he remember that?_ It was enough to stop her heart considering that was one of the very first conversations she’d ever had with him, in 140 character increments over Twitter DMs, no less. But there he was, standing there on the rug, like her wildest dreams come true, dressed to impress, with every intention to deliver on his promise of courtship and romance. _No, he promised to ‘court’ me._ _Courtship implies a possible desire to marry someone…Wow…_ An unexpected rush of giddiness came over her making her light-headed at that thought. _Surely, he only meant it colloquially? He couldn’t possibly be serious about me in that way…_

She looked so fresh and lovely in her black, knee-length, tulle skirt, and white printed t-shirt paired with a soft pink cardigan. She had the most peculiar look on her face as he reached out to take her hand, holding up the flowers, “I hate to admit that I don’t know what sort of flowers you like. I hope these are alright?”

That same giddiness took over as she found herself holding a pot of little yellow orchids that she’d gasped with delight. And then when he added rather nervously, “They remind me of you, sweet and sunny and unspoiled,” tears began to prickle behind her eyes.

She was so touched by the sentiment that she had to swallow as her throat grew tight. In the end, all she could do is rise onto her toes and kiss his cheek while she whispered, “They’re perfect, thank you.”

Greta hid her own unbidden swell of emotion over the affection between the couple before her by clearing her throat. “I’ll put the flowers in the kitchen where the sun is right. Finish making moon eyes in the car on the way to the show or you’ll be late.”

 

 

As they checked their coats and took their seat, Richard slipped his arm around her and drank in the sight of her face with her slightly self-conscious smile. Noting her silver-framed glasses with little pink gems in the corners, he asked, “Have I seen these before?”

He never ceased to impress her by noticing things most men in her life wouldn’t have. “No, they’re new. I couldn’t help myself.”

His chest rumbled with his chuckle. “Well, I’m glad. They suit you. Makes me wonder what you’re doing with such a boring old dude.” His blue eyes roamed her face dancing with humor.

“Shut up. I caught a glimpse at your orange and blue striped socks in the car. You’re not fooling anyone. Why is it that you’re shockingly clueless about how sinfully gorgeous you are?”

His eyebrows rose over the irony of that comment as he remarked, “Would you like to be pot or kettle in this conversation?” He pulled out his phone and aimed it back at them. “It occurred to me that we only have the one photo together, okay two if you count the one from the restaurant.”

“You mean the one in London?”

“That’s the one.” He commented and snapped the photo. “I still have another one that you sent, of course… _Naughty girl._ ” He practically purred in her ear, causing her to shiver.

“I still can’t believe I did that.” Her face flushed, remembering her false bravado that night.

“You certainly got my attention. But then again, I think you and I both have been compelled to do things that are slightly out of character as of late.”

“Yes, who knew you’d make such a fantastic nurse?”

“I was surprised to discover that you can throw a snowball with remarkable aim.” His chuckle rumbled through him again as he turned his phone to gain her permission before Tweeting the photo. It was a habit he’d gotten into early on and since he was about to set the internet on fire with this one, he wanted to make sure she was aware and okay with it.

_**Richard Armitage** @ RArmitage_

_My lovely date @BSpectacled while I see a dear friend’s show. #twitterpated_

Meredith hadn’t realized what he’d been doing until that point. Richard was about to put it out there that they were an item. That wasn’t unfamiliar to her and she honestly never minded so long as her date wasn't crude about it. Men in her “social circle” liked being seen with her. However, she knew that he wasn’t doing it to gain some sort of status. The fact that he sought her approval before doing so meant he wanted to make sure she understood that he was about to put an end to the speculation of whether they were an item by confirming that they were. And it was something he’d never done before with anyone so far as she knew. It pointed out that he might actually feel differently about her in a way he'd never felt when he was with other women. It was odd that a Tweet could feel so utterly romantic to her.

Her eyes had grown so big behind her glasses it was comical, for a moment she reminded him of an owl. “I won’t post it if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

“I’m not uncomfortable with it at all. I'm just worried you’ll regret doing it. People are going to go bananas.”

As he tweeted the photo, he said very firmly, "Let them." 


End file.
